


You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In High School

by mcrrocksmysocks



Category: BABYMETAL, Bandom, My Chemical Romance, One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician), The Used
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Slow Burn, Swearing, this is actually well written and proofread
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28675338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcrrocksmysocks/pseuds/mcrrocksmysocks
Summary: Taylor Swift is your average new kid high school senior. Gerard Way is a stuck up social outcast with pretty eyes and an even prettier voice. What happens next may surprise you. Please I swear this plot is actually really well thought out it will be funny please don't scroll away. Inspired by "You Belong With Me (I Promise)" by GeeOnHeart09 on Wattpad. Updates weekly.
Relationships: Gerard Way/Miley Cyrus, Gerard Way/Taylor Swift, Marie Ulvin/Hayley Kiyoko/Avril Lavigne
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	1. A Place In This World

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [You Belong With Me (I Promise)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/740610) by GeeOnHeart09. 



The sun was shining, the birds were chirping. It was an idyllic day at Marx High School for nearly all its students. To Taylor Swift, however, it felt like there were storm clouds rolling in, wind howling. No blue sky would sway her opinion: she was about to walk into Hell. 

For the first seventeen years of her life, nothing had changed. She lived in the same house, went through the same system of schools with the same group of people, and had the same friends and dogs and next-door neighbors. Senior year was, in her opinion, probably the worst possible year to have all of that uprooted. But there she was, starting fresh just when she was supposed to be finishing everything up. Her shoulders felt heavy and her throat felt tight. She really wasn’t looking forward to this first day. Everything around her seemed intimidating, from the students chatting on the stairwell to the school’s modernist architecture, and especially the skateboarder on the railing about to knock some poor kid over.

Before she could think enough to dodge, the skateboarder knocked into the boy, who then, in turn, knocked her onto the concrete. She glanced up and caught a glimpse of his hazel orbs before he got up off the ground and ran away, a look of pure fear on his face as laughter began to bubble up around them. That pissed Taylor off.

“Hey! Aren’t you gonna help me up?” she shouted. Her head was already beginning to ache. 

“Sorry about that,” a boy said. Taylor looked up to see a boy her age with a black beanie pulled over his somewhat disastrously styled dirty blond hair. “My brother can be a bit of an asshole sometimes.” 

“No kidding. Does he pull that with all the new girls?” 

“You’re new?” the boy asked. He grinned. “What grade are you in?” 

“Senior.” Although the kid was offering his hand, Taylor brushed off her jeans and grabbed the railing to help herself up. 

“Aw, that’s too bad. I’m a junior,” the boy said. “My name’s Mikey, by the way. What’s yours?” 

“Taylor. Hey, do you by any chance know where room 213 is?” She held her schedule out to him. 

He glanced over it for a second before saying, “That’s one of the labs, right? Yeah, I know where that is. Come on, I’ll show you.” 

As it turned out, Mikey was one loquacious kid. Just on the way to the lab, Taylor was treated to a breakdown of the Star Wars movies in order of in-universe chronology, cinematography, and dialogue quality. When she asked if he was interested in a career in screenwriting, however, he just laughed. Mikey didn’t seem to have much direction outside of planning Friday night movie marathons and weekend trips to GameStop. Taylor wondered who he could possibly be friends with. She hoped she could find someone else to sit with at lunch so that she wouldn’t have to find out. 

“Oh, you must be the new student!” her physics teacher exclaimed as soon as she walked through the door. Taylor cringed a bit as she saw several students look up at her. “Taylor, right?” the teacher asked, shuffling through some papers. “Your desk is right over there.” He pointed to a desk in the front row. Taylor had to stop herself from groaning. She  _ hated  _ sitting in the front row. 

As Taylor took her seat, unzipping her backpack and pulling out the green notebook and folder she had assigned to this class, a boy burst through the door. He scanned the room for a second before his eyes settled on the seat next to Taylor. He looked confused for a second, but was smiling when he walked over and sat next to her. “Hey!” he said, and for a guy so tall, his voice was awfully high pitched. “My name is Ray. I’m guessing you’re new. And since you’re sitting here, it looks like we’re going to be lab partners for the rest of the semester. What’s your name?”

“Taylor.” She forced an awkward smile. 

“Awesome! Well, it’s really early in the year, so, honestly, you haven’t missed much. It shouldn’t be that hard to adjust. I’d be happy to show you around if you needed it. I know the hallways are kind of maze-like.” 

Taylor chuckled. “Tell me about it. I had this junior show me around earlier. He would not shut up! I don’t think I remember where anything is, I was too busy trying to zone out.” 

“Sounds like a junior,” Ray said. 

Taylor and Ray talked as much as they could for the rest of the class, and, as it turned out, she actually really liked him. He was funny, sweet, and pretty smart. They bonded over playing guitar and compared tastes in movies and music. Taylor was surprised that a guy like Ray, who seemed so mild-mannered, was really into metal. 

When the bell rang, Ray turned to Taylor. “So, if you’re interested,” he started, “you could totally come sit with me and my friends at lunch. I’ve been a new student too, so I know how hard it is to find a place to sit. So. The offer’s open. If you want to.” 

Taylor smiled. “Yeah, thanks. I think I might just take you up on that.” 

“Great.” Ray stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “See you later!” he exclaimed, waving while walking out the door. 

Taylor’s next few classes went alright, and she was starting to feel oddly comfortable by the time lunch rolled around. Maybe this school  _ wouldn’t  _ be so bad. She walked into the cafeteria, Vera Bradley lunch bag in tow, and began scanning the room for Ray. It didn’t take long to spot him--he was waiting in the lunch line and he towered over most of the other students. Taylor walked over and quickly tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Oh, Taylor, hi!” he said. “The line won’t be much longer, I can just walk you over to the table then.” 

“Better than getting lost.” 

“Right.” Ray nodded. 

“Is the cafeteria food any good?” Taylor asked. She noticed the line was far longer than it had been at her last school. 

Ray laughed. “Oh, no, it’s terrible. But I’d rather suffer through it than wake up early to make my own lunch, so it works.” 

They chatted for a bit longer in the line until Ray got his chicken nuggets and they turned to the swarm of people in the pit of the lunchroom. 

“We don’t sit there,” Ray said, “it’s where the freshman sit. But going through is the fastest route. Just be careful--sometimes they throw food.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.” 

The group of tables where the seniors sat were by a window looking out at the woods behind the school. Taylor had to admit that it was a pretty view. The tables were less crowded than down in the pit and there was far less ruckus. Ray led her over to the corner and gestured to a table. “This is where my friends and I sit,” he said. “There should be plenty of room.” 

“Oh, hey, Taylor!” came a familiar voice. 

She turned around to look at where the voice came from. “Mikey?” she asked, because, sure enough, there he was, sitting at Ray’s table. “I thought you were a junior.” 

“Well, I mean, yeah, but it’s not like anyone can stop me from sitting with my friends. It’s a big school, I don’t think anyone notices.” 

“Plus, he’s far from the only junior who sits here.” Ray shrugged and sat down. 

Taylor followed suit and started unzipping her lunch box. She was starting to get a little worried. Only two people at the lunch table? Were the first two people she met both total losers? 

Suddenly, she heard shouting from behind her. “I’m here, I’m here!” someone yelled. “I’m sorry I’m late!” 

“Dude, where the fuck were you?” Ray asked. 

Taylor turned around. The person who had been shouting was a boy running straight towards them, breathing heavily with a red face and mussed up hair. And, great, this kid looked  _ even weirder  _ than Mikey and Ray. Taylor’s luck was getting worse by the second. 

“I had to stay late for a class,” he said, swinging his backpack off his shoulder and letting it hit the ground with a loud thump. “It was incredibly boring. Trust me, I would’ve rather been here.” 

“Well, Frank, this is Taylor. She’s new here. Taylor, this is Frank.” 

“Hey, nice to meet you!” Frank exclaimed. “How’d Ray and Mikey manage to drag you over here on your first day?” 

“Oh, shut up,” Ray said. “You’re the real menace of the friend group.” 

Taylor wondered briefly how Frank’s boring class had left him in such a disheveled state, but she decided not to dwell on it. “Uh, nice to meet you too, Frank,” she said, a bit hesitantly, earning a huge grin from the… sophomore? Freshman? “What grade are you in?” He looked like he should be back in the pit.

“Oh, junior.” Apparently Taylor didn’t mask her surprise very well, because he followed up with, “Yeah, yeah, get your short jokes out of the way now.”

“N-no, you just--” She trailed off, embarrassed. Honestly, there wasn’t much to say about that.

Fortunately, Mikey was there to save the day. “ _ So _ , Frank, why’d you have to stay late?”

“Um. You know. I’m like, really bad at school.”

Ray looked a bit confused at that. “You have a 4.0.”

“Not this semester.” Frank was pointedly avoiding eye contact, and Taylor was brainstorming a way out of the conversation.

“Damnit,” Taylor said, fork clattering onto the floor where she dropped it. “I guess I’d better grab a new one. You never know what’s on the floor of a high school cafeteria.” Ray nodded solemnly.

Taylor was shoving her way past a table of screeching theater kids and a few nerdy loiterers when she suddenly hit the ground. Twice in one day?

“Watch where you’re going, loser.” Taylor found herself peering up into two cruel ocean-blue orbs framed by perfect bleach blonde curls. For a split second she thought about apologizing before she remembered how she ended up on the floor.

“I was, actually. I should be saying that to you.” Not her snappiest comeback. Oh well.

“I’m sorry, did I hear that correctly? I thought I just heard the new girl talk back to me. Correct me if I’m wrong. Otherwise you better take it back before I cancel you.”

_ What in the  _ Mean Girls _?  _ Taylor said to her mind. She could feel at least 20 pairs of orbs encircling her, waiting on her every shallow breath. After a few agonizing seconds of indecision Taylor concluded her best course of action was to cut her losses and get the hell out of the cafeteria. Taylor didn’t stop running until the laughter faded behind her, then paused next to a row of lockers to assess the damage. Carefully, she tucked her women’s cut horse camp t-shirt back into her bootcut blue jeans, then realized her messy bun had come loose while she was running. She had been holding herself together all day, despite the many trials and tribulations of being the new girl, but now she couldn’t find her hairband, and it felt like her hair was everywhere, surrounding her, caught in her clothes, in front of her eyes that stung and stung until she finally let go of the sob that was rising in her throat. She had to get away--she couldn’t let the whole school see her crying, especially not on her first day. 

Without much thinking, Taylor bolted once again, unsure of where exactly she was headed. She ran as far from the cafeteria as she could, heading down empty hall after empty hall. Once she reached a dead end, she grabbed onto the nearest steel handle and slammed the door behind her, crumpling down onto a ball on the floor and letting sobs wrack over her. After a minute or two, she wiped her eyes and tried to slow her breathing. She noticed, then, that she was not alone: the room was filled with the sounds of singing. 

Taylor slowly turned around, scared of what she would see, what embarrassment she would face. The room she was in, she realized, was an auditorium, covered in shadows as a warm golden light drenched the stage. There were three microphones set up, and at the center one, a boy was singing. As Taylor slowly stepped closer, she realized something: it was the same boy who had knocked her over that morning before school. She stifled a gasp. His voice was gorgeous, almost ethereal, mesmerizing. Taylor felt as if she couldn’t move. How could such an asshole sing so beautifully? Taylor felt her heart flutter as she looked him over--he  _ was  _ rather attractive. Then she felt a lump in her throat. Was she getting a  _ crush _ on that bitch? That selfish kid with the nerdy little brother? She really thought this day couldn’t get any worse, but here it was, the worst plot twist of them all. 

She fucking hated her new school. 


	2. Begin Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor can't seem to get the attention of the people she wants to befriend, but maybe Mikey & co aren't so bad after all.

Taylor was determined to make her second day a good one. 

She woke up at precisely 6:30 and didn’t hit snooze once. She made her bed, pulled open her blinds, and grabbed her nicest blouse from her closet, making sure to double check for any wrinkles. She left five minutes early and played her favorite music on the drive and then touched up her lip gloss before getting out of the car. Today was going to be a good day. 

The heels of her boots clacked loudly as she stepped through the school’s front door, taking in the crowded hallways, the smell of sweaty gym clothes and the sounds of laughter and shouting. It was typical American high school, and Taylor revelled in it. Things could only get better from here. She was absolutely determined to find her place. 

“Hey, Taylor!” 

She stopped dead in her tracks. It was fucking Mikey, wasn’t it? She turned around slowly, letting out an exasperated sigh. “What is it?” 

“Just wanted to say hi!” Mikey exclaimed. “How was yesterday? Did it go well?” 

“Fine,” Taylor grumbled in reply. 

“I’m sorry about what happened with Miley at lunch,” Mikey said. “I know how awful she can be sometimes.” 

Taylor sighed. “It’s whatever.” She was desperately trying to look for any way to avoid being seen talking to this kid. She didn’t want a repeat of yesterday. 

“She’ll start to ignore you eventually,” Mikey continued, “at least for the most part.” He chuckled awkwardly, dismissive of his own words. “That’s how it worked for me and Gerard.” 

“Who’s Gerard?” 

“My asshole brother. The one who knocked you over yesterday. But I promise you he’s not actually that bad. Just kind of...shy.” 

The kid’s name was  _ Gerard?  _ Taylor held back a groan. She could  _ not  _ have a crush on a kid whose name was  _ Gerard.  _ She nodded and pursed her lips. “Cool,” she uttered. “Well, I’ve gotta go now,” she added, shoving past Mikey without another word. 

“Okay, bye!” Mikey exclaimed, and Taylor could tell just from his tone that if she looked back he would be smiling and waving like he’d never even noticed she was trying to brush him off. The kid was like a ball of sunshine and Taylor could not stand it. She was trying to wallow in the misery that was her new life. She was  _ not  _ in the mood for some perky feel-good bullshit or friends who tried to act like everything was fine despite being the biggest losers in the whole school. 

Taylor knew what it was like to be unliked. She knew what it was like to sit alone at lunch and to hide in the bathroom as the bullies threatened to terrorize her in the halls. She had friends at her old school, yes, but she had enemies too. She had people she ran and hid from and kids who still occasionally paid a visit to her nightmares. She wanted her senior year to be different, but here she was, trapped in the same old cycle again.

That day in English class, Taylor worked up the confidence to talk to the girl next to her. She seemed nice enough. She curled her brown hair just like Taylor curled hers and she always took notes when the teacher talked, delicately decorated with mildliners and colored pen. She had friends she talked to before and after the bell rang. She seemed approachable, but far from a pariah--exactly what Taylor was looking for. 

“Hey,” Taylor said once the girl sat down. “What’s your name?” 

The girl looked at her for a second, blinked a couple times like she was incredulous at such a simple question. “Maisy,” she said, sounding somewhat unsure, the end of the word up-turned like it was more a question than an answer. 

“Nice to meet you, Maisy. I’m Taylor. So, do you like this class? Is the teacher nice?” 

Maisy raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you ask me all of this yesterday?” 

Taylor shrugged. “I was nervous, I guess. You know, new school and everything. It gets a bit overwhelming.” 

Maisy pursed her lips and shot a glance just behind Taylor’s face--probably to a friend, something along the lines of  _ Are you seeing this shit?  _ “Right.” She picked up her pen and turned her focus back to the front of the room. 

Taylor tried to ignore the rejection, but it stung a little. All she wanted was a new friend, and she really didn’t think that was too much to ask. Maybe everyone here was just  _ mean.  _ They were all seniors, shouldn’t they have been past all this childish bullshit by now? Taylor had never understood what drove some people to be so downright petty and cliquey. 

That day at lunch, Taylor had no choice but to sit with Ray and his friends again. Well, she could’ve sat in the bathroom, but she supposed some things were even worse than humiliation. Taylor kept her head down, shrugging her shoulders inwards to make herself seem smaller and draw less attention to the fact that she was  _ still  _ stuck at the loser table. 

“Are you okay, Taylor?” Ray asked almost immediately. To his credit, he did look genuinely concerned: he made his best attempt at eye contact and turned away from Mikey, who had been engaging him in a conversation about rare Pokemon, of all things. 

Taylor nodded. “Yeah, fine.” 

“Your second day going well?” 

Taylor shrugged. “Fine,” she said, and hoped Ray would be willing to leave it at that. She was in the kind of mood where if someone forced her to talk about her feelings she would immediately break down in tears. Heavy, ugly ones, too. 

Luckily for her, Ray didn’t push it. “Well,” he started, “if you’re interested, we’re all hanging out tonight. We’ll probably just play video games and grab dinner, but if you’d prefer to do something else, that’s fine too.” 

Taylor nodded awkwardly, trying to come up with a response. A night of video games sounded far from ideal to her. “I have a lot of homework tonight,” she stuttered out. “Maybe another time?” 

“Yeah, no problem!” Ray flashed a grin. “Hey, why don’t we all exchange numbers so we can plan for another time?” 

“Oh, yeah, good idea, Ray,” Mikey said, scrambling to grab his phone out of his pocket and then sliding it across the table. “Go ahead, put your number in.” 

Taylor grabbed the phone hesitantly. There was no way out of this, was there? She sighed and typed her number in and hoped that, even if she was forced to talk to Mikey, maybe getting closer to him would get her closer to Gerard. God, she hated herself for wanting to get closer to Gerard. And now she hated herself even more for blaspheming, even if it was only in her head. 

Ray handed her his phone, too. Frank refused to and rather opted to put his number in her phone and then text himself. He was a weird kid, and he seemed very defensive over his phone. Honestly, Taylor would’ve been perfectly content not having his number, but Ray had insisted--in case of emergency, or homework help, or whatever, because apparently Frank was in the same level of French as her. She couldn’t have cared less about French. 

“We’ll do something fun this weekend,” Ray said. “We can show you around town a little, too.” 

Frank rolled his eyes, not even looking up from his phone. “Yeah, ‘cause there’s so much town here to be shown.” 

“Shut up, dude,” Ray said, jabbing playfully at his shoulder. He turned to Taylor. “He’s just a downer. It’s really not all that bad here.” 

“Yeah,” Taylor agreed. “I’m sure it isn’t.” She held back from saying that her hopes weren’t exactly high. She knew small towns like this--there was never anything interesting to do and the same five fast food places always got old after about three days. 

The rest of the school day went fine. Taylor was thankful to not have another encounter with Miley. She managed to keep her head down, but the downside of that was that she had shown up to school that morning with the same amount of “friends” as she had when she left. She was feeling sorry for herself as she stepped through the front door, dropping her backpack in the entryway with a thump and then sprinting up the stairs and slamming the door behind her. Her mom wasn’t home yet, so she didn’t care about all the noise she was making. She didn’t care when she let out a few noisy sobs while burying her head in her pillow. She just wanted her old friends back and her old room and she wanted to see her dad and her dogs that still lived back at the old house. She wished her mom hadn’t been so selfish and forced her to move across the country during her senior year. 

After drying her eyes and touching up her makeup, Taylor tried FaceTiming a few old friends. No one picked up her calls, and after half an hour she was back laying on her bed staring up at the ceiling. From there she could feel the vibrations rumbling through the house when the garage door opened, and when she heard a door slamming shut, she half-heartedly shouted, “Hi, Mom.” A few seconds later, no response. Taylor sighed and pushed herself up from her bed. “Hi, Mom,” she shouted again. Still, nothing in response, until she got to the doorway of her room and she finally heard something--yelling. The words weren’t exactly distinct, but Taylor knew her mom’s yelling voice anywhere. She slowly creeped out of her room, making her best attempt at eavesdropping. It became apparent almost immediately who her mom was yelling at: her father. 

Taylor had always thought that maybe the yelling would stop once the divorce was finalized. Then she had thought that maybe the yelling would stop after she and her mom moved. But here she was, listening to her mom screaming and screaming about her dad was lazy, good for nothing, a failure, not mature enough to handle raising a kid, to handle raising  _ Taylor.  _ The more vicious her mom’s tone grew, the more tears she could feel biting at her eyes. After ten minutes, Taylor couldn’t handle it anymore--she had to get away. She did the last thing she had expected herself to do that day and picked out Ray’s brand new contact from her phone and pressed call. 

The phone rang for a few seconds before he picked up. “Hey, Taylor, what’s up?” he exclaimed. Taylor could make out the sounds of shouting and video game shooting in the background.

“Well, I finished my homework a little earlier than I expected,” she started, “and I was wondering if there was any chance I could still come over.”   
“Oh, yeah, of course!” Ray replied. “I’ll just text you my address.” 

“Thanks,” Taylor uttered. She wasn’t sure if she regretted asking. 

“Yeah, no problem! See you soon, bye!” Ray exclaimed, and then abruptly hung up. Taylor sighed and grabbed her jean jacket and car keys from the hook on her door and then rushed out of her room, trying to stay quiet as not to draw her mom’s attention. Once she got outside, she bolted for the car. She could text her mom where she was going later. 

The drive to Ray’s was short, but Taylor felt like she had entered a whole different world. There was an obvious difference between her neighborhood (big houses, perfectly manicured lawns, cul-de-sacs and neighborhood-wide landscaping projects) and his (worn siding and overgrown grass, rusted playground equipment at the only nearby park). It wasn’t exactly what she had been expecting, but she tried to push that thought out of her mind. She reassured herself by thinking about how it was about five times better than listening to her mom screech her head off all night. 

Ray answered the door quickly after Taylor knocked. “Hey!” he said, quickly stepping aside. “Come in! Everyone’s just in the basement. We have snacks down there and stuff, do you want me to grab you anything to drink?” 

Taylor shook her head. “No, thank you.” 

Ray shrugged. “Okay. Well, there’s the stairs.” He pointed to them, as if it wasn’t obvious where the stairs were. Taylor almost laughed. 

The basement smelled surprisingly nice for being full of teenage boys. Maybe Ray’s family were the tidy type, Taylor supposed. She could hear yelling from the second she entered the room--Mikey and Frank arguing about something or other involving whatever game it was they were playing, though mostly it was Mikey doing all the shouting. Frank seemed half-dead, barely putting any effort into the game but somehow obliterating Mikey. Mikey, fortunately for him, didn’t seem to notice that he was only playing against a quarter of an opponent. It probably would’ve been a bit of a blow to his ego if he did. 

“Hey, guys,” Ray bellowed out, “Taylor’s here.” 

Mikey whipped around like that was just the best thing he had ever heard, like he was ecstatic at her arrival. “Taylor! Hey!” he exclaimed. “Do you want to come play?” 

“I don’t know much about video games,” she said, awkwardly fidgeting her hands as she stood. She shouldn’t have felt so nervous for such a bizarre hang-out, but she just felt so out of place she couldn’t help it. 

“Well, I’m sure you’ve played at least a couple in your life, right? How about MarioKart?” Mikey suggested. “Gerard’s really good at MarioKart.” 

Taylor’s heart froze. Gerard was here? Oh, no, she couldn’t do this. She felt like she was going to be sick. She’d been prepared for a calm evening of watching Ray and Frank and Mikey fuck around and hopefully bolstering her superiority complex. She hadn’t been prepared to face Gerard. 

“Eh,” a voice came from the couch. “I’m like...fine at MarioKart.” 

“Shut up, you’re good at it,” Mikey said. “Remember how badly you beat Frank last time?” 

“What _ ever _ ,” Frank groaned, like he was only partially dedicated to defending himself. 

Gerard let out a little chuckle and Taylor’s heart skipped a beat at the sound. “Yeah, that  _ was  _ pretty funny.” 

“Gerard, you should introduce yourself to Taylor,” Mikey said. “Y’know, seeing as you knocked her down and all on her first day of school.” 

“You’re right,” Gerard said, and then he stood up from the couch and turned to face her. He was wearing sweatpants and a ratty old t-shirt, but, to be honest, he totally made them work, and his hair was a bit greasy, but honestly, Taylor could bring herself to ignore that. “I’m Gerard,” he said, “that nosy little shit’s older brother.” 

“Hey, rude!” Mikey shouted. “At least I have some empathy, unlike you, dickwad.” 

Gerard rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever, Mikes.” He smiled. “Would you be up for a game, though?” he asked Taylor. “Could be fun.” 

“Yeah, sure,” she coughed out, trying her best to come off nonchalant. She walked over to the couch and awkwardly squeezed her way in between Gerard and Frank. 

It took a minute to get the game of MarioKart queued up. Once they were on the loading screen, Frank passed his controller to Taylor and said, half-heartedly, “Have at,” before pulling his phone out of his pocket and beginning to intently text someone. Taylor couldn’t totally comprehend how he had friends that weren’t inside this room right now, but she decided not to prod. 

Gerard shot her a smile while he was choosing his character and Taylor felt a squeezing pain in her heart. He was  _ so cute  _ it wasn’t fair. Taylor settled on playing as Peach while Gerard was Mario. She thought it was fitting--at least, she  _ hoped  _ it was. Maybe someday they’d be together, and, to be honest, Taylor really doubted there was any other competition vying for him. 

The game didn’t take very long. Taylor put up her best fight, but she really just sucked at video games. Gerard beat her by a longshot, but luckily for her, losing meant he gave her a high five and a nice little consolation pat on the back, both of which made her breath stutter a little bit. 

“Told you Gerard was good,” Mikey said, “even though he tries to deny it.” 

Taylor let out an embarrassing giggle. “Uh, yeah, yeah, he is,” she said. Frank looked up from his phone to raise an eyebrow at her. That attempt at a recovery had  _ majorly  _ failed, and she felt her face starting to go total red. 

“Hey, guys, do you want me to order the pizza now?” Ray shouted. Taylor was relieved by the interruption.

“Yes, please!” Mikey exclaimed. 

“Sure,” Gerard uttered, flipping through the game library on Ray’s XBox. 

The difference between the two of them made Taylor smile. A lot of the time she found Mikey annoying, but in moments like this, his positivity was more endearing than anything else. Gerard’s aloofness was endearing, too, in its own way. She could picture herself curled up next to him on a date night, trying to pull his attention away from the movie they were watching and back to her. The image made her feel all warm inside. 

She could see herself belonging here. Not with Gerard, but with all of them. She could imagine getting irritated at Ray trying to mother the friend group, she could see a clear image of herself trying to wrestle Frank’s phone from his hands while they were out, she could hear Mikey’s voice in her head trying to cheer her up after a tricky test. It felt natural, almost, comforting. 

_ Wow,  _ she said to her mind.  _ I must be  _ really  _ desperate to make friends.  _

She was starting to accept that maybe she was going to be a loser again. It was only for one year, after all. Maybe she could make do with being at the bottom of the pecking order. Maybe she could even learn to like it. 


	3. Give 'Em Hell, Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day at Marx High School, we get a peak into Gerard's real feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey besties! We put a lot of work into this series, so if you're actually reading it, please leave a comment to let us know what you think. :)

The first thing Gerard thought about when he got up every morning was how much he hated school. Usually he had been dreaming about how much he hated school, and then he hit snooze a couple times while dreading his first hour pre-calc class, and then he lazily hopped into his car with his hair unbrushed and his clothes still wrinkled and uttered a few curses under his breath directed at the school’s superintendent. He really wished that someday karma would get that woman for forcing a bunch of poor, innocent teenagers into broken old plastic chairs at seven o’clock in the morning. 

Gerard had never been the best student, but, then again, he had never put the most effort into school in the first place. He was an artist, and he had known since elementary school that he was going to grow up and do art for a living. It was the only option he had ever seen for himself. He didn’t exactly need to know advanced math in order to draw a cartoon. He just had to endure high school, graduate, and then he’d finally be free to do what he wanted--or work at a fast food joint for the rest of his life, but he tried to ignore that possibility. And really, he was good enough not to have to worry, right? 

Gerard had the same philosophy when it came to his social life as he did for his academics: keep his head down and wait for it all to be over. As such, his only friends were his younger brother’s first (with one notable failed experiment deviating from that) and he had never had a girlfriend. He wasn’t particularly upset about his seclusion. Really, he would’ve been fine being friends with nobody at all; half the time he was more irritated than anything at having people intrude on his life. Sometimes, though, he wanted someone to play video games with or harrass into driving him to McDonald’s when he didn’t feel like spending the allotted gas money his parents gave him every week. 

It was odd to him that the newest addition to Mikey’s friend group was a girl. They had never done much hanging out around girls before. Sure, Ray had had one or two girlfriends and Frank often brought up some girls in conversation--someone whose name started with M? L? Gerard wasn’t exactly sure--but Mikey had never really had any success in that realm outside of “talking” to girls from halfway across the country on Snapchat. In real life he was either too shy or totally overzealous and always managed to scare them off. So, really, it was a total surprise that this Taylor girl seemed to be sticking around. To be fair to her, though, she didn’t seem exactly enthusiastic about it. Gerard picked up on the little cues that Mikey was far too optimistic to notice--it was clear Taylor was desperately trying to find literally  _ anyone else  _ to be friends with. Unfortunately enough for her, by senior year cliques were so cemented it would take a literal grace-of-God miracle to break into one. She had even less of a chance after Miley having made a fool of her on her very first day. Gerard almost felt bad about that part.  _ Almost  _ being the operative word there.

Most of the time, Gerard didn’t know how he felt about Miley. He certainly had a bit of respect for her. It was admirable how she had the power to make the whole school her bitch without ever having to throw a punch or even raise her voice. Plus, she had this independence about her that was oddly alluring. There were hundreds of guys practically grovelling after her, but she made it clear at every possible instance that neither needed nor wanted them. It intrigued Gerard, and a part of him wanted to see if he could be the first guy to change her mind. 

Yeah, it was stupid.  _ Insanely  _ stupid. There was no chance of a cool girl like her ever falling for a total loser like him. Hell, she'd probably stab him with a stiletto if she ever found out. But he could dream. And oh, boy did he dream. About fifty percent of his sketchbook was filled with her long blonde curls and white and red cheerleading uniform. He hid it from his friends like a blushing schoolgirl whenever they decided to start prodding him about his latest art projects. 

Gerard had chosen the lunch table they sat at, though it was the sort of thing everyone had forgotten by now. It was simply a fact of life that they sat in that corner of the lunch room, so no one questioned it. But Gerard had really thought about the decision, and if he had deliberately sat them closer to Miley, who would even notice? Sure, she’d harass them from time to time, but in his opinion, it was worth it. She still would’ve harassed them even if they’d sat in the freshman pit. Nobody could say Miley wasn’t the dedicated sort. 

That day at lunch, Taylor ran into the room and slammed her lunchbox down on the table so loud it scared Mikey. She was sobbing almost hysterically, her eyes red and puffy and her nose running a bit too. 

“Taylor, what’s wrong?” Ray asked, his brows furrowed in concern. Frank even looked up from his phone, the scene was so shocking. 

Taylor threw her backpack onto the floor and dramatically dropped onto her seat then buried her head in my hands. “My math teacher  _ humiliated me _ ,” she whined, “and the whole class laughed!” 

“Was it Mr. Jacobs?” Ray asked, waiting for Taylor’s nod in response. “Yeah, he’s a dickhead. I’m really sorry.” 

“It’s going to be okay, Taylor,” Frank said. “I’m sure no one will remember by tomorrow.” 

“Frank’s right,” Mikey agreed. “Do you want my last cookie? Maybe it will make you feel better.” 

Taylor let out a small chuckle in between sobs. “No, thanks, Mikey.” She wiped her eyes and sniffled a little bit. “I just hate this school so much,” she said. “It feels like it’s never going to get better.” 

“It’s still your first week,” Ray offered. “I promise things will settle down, okay?”

“Yeah, right,” Taylor groaned. “I just...I’m sorry, guys, I just wish I wasn’t here. I wish I never had to move to this stupid school.” 

“We get it,” Mikey said. “There’s nothing wrong with that. This totally sucks, and it’s okay to be upset about that. But it will get better.” 

Taylor nodded. “Thanks,” she coughed out, though she didn’t sound entirely sincere in it. She made eye contact with no one, rather choosing to stare down at the floor as she wiped the running mascara off her cheeks. 

“No problem!” Mikey said. He could be oblivious at times; Gerard knew this. “Hey, so, we should totally do something to cheer you up this weekend. Where do you wanna go?” 

Taylor looked up, an expression of dissatisfaction clearly painted across her face. “I don’t know,” she grumbled. “I don’t know anything about this place.” 

“Well, that’s okay,” Mikey said. “We can go to the mall. There’s something for everybody at the mall.” 

Taylor was staring at Mikey with the beginnings of disdain, but she took a deep, shaky breath and moved on. “Yeah, sure,” she agreed, probably more to avoid conflict than out of any desire to actually go to the mall. “Good idea.” 

Mikey grinned at her, sitting straight up in his seat and practically bouncing with enthusiasm. “Great! We can go on Saturday. It’ll be so much fun!” 

Just then, Gerard heard a voice behind him, a voice that made his heart beat just a little bit faster and his palms start to sweat: Miley. “Hey, loser!” she shouted. He, Ray, Frank, and Mikey all turned to look at her. “No, not you guys,” she said, and Gerard felt relief flooding all throughout his body. “I’m talking to the new girl.” 

Taylor didn’t turn to look. She kept her eyes trained straight ahead at the wall. Gerard could see that she was shaking a little. 

“Hey, fucking look at me!” Miley yelled. She sounded so  _ cold _ that Gerard almost smiled. He admired that trait of hers. He thought it would make the two of them work quite well together. “I have something I need to talk to you about.” 

Gerard looked around. The entire lunch room was staring. The attention, even though it wasn’t aimed at him, made Gerard feel a little giddy. He loved having the spotlight, even if it wasn’t necessarily for a positive reason. 

“Selena told me you were trying to cheat off of her in math class today,” Miley said. “She also said you were trying to be all buddy-buddy afterwards. Well, newsflash: you’re not cool enough for my friends. So stick to your losers, ‘kay? It’s where you belong.” 

Though she had initially tried to hold back the tears, Taylor had started violently sobbing again. She was a really ugly crier. Her face was all red and contorted and her makeup had started smearing all over her face (though her mascara had looked pretty subpar in the first place, even before the tears started to ruin it). “Please leave me alone,” she choked out. Big mistake. Gerard knew what was coming from there.

“Oh, what was that?” Miley said. “You think I care about your feelings? Back off, bitch,” she spat. “I don’t know who you’re trying to fool, but you don’t belong here, and you never will. Bye, now.” And then Miley sauntered away, a smile on her face like she had just been greeting an old friend rather than berating a girl who had already been sobbing before Miley had even walked over. Gerard had to hold back a smile of his own. He loved that Miley had the power to make or break someone’s day. 

“I’m so sorry, Taylor,” Ray said once Miley was out of earshot. “None of what she said was true, okay? She’s just mean to be mean.” 

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Frank asked. “Anything that would make you feel better?” 

Taylor just shook her head and stood up from her seat, quickly gathering all her things. “I think I just need to be alone,” she said, “but thank you.” And then, with her head held low, she walked out of the cafeteria. For the second time that day, Gerard almost felt bad. Mostly, he just felt enchanted by firebrand tongue and uncaring persona. Man, they would be good together. It was all he could think about. 

When Gerard saw Taylor later that day, her eyes were still red and puffy. She looked beyond miserable. Mikey was trailing after her, trying to get her to talk to him, but she seemed insistent on staying silent. Then, suddenly, without any explanation she just stopped dead in her tracks. 

“There’s a battle of the bands,” she said. 

“Oh, cool!” Frank exclaimed from behind her. “Maybe I could get Pencey to enter and--” 

Gerard shoved through the hall to get closer to them. “Guys, we should totally start a band,” he said. “All of us. I think we’d have a really good chance of winning.” 

Mikey laughed under his breath. “Gerard, you can’t play anything.” 

“Maybe not, but I can sing,” he suggested. “And you can play bass and Ray and Frank can play guitar. It’ll be awesome.” 

“Can I join too?” Taylor asked. It caught Gerard a little off guard. “I play guitar too and sometimes I write lyrics.” 

“Really? That’s so cool!” Ray said. “I don’t know anyone who writes lyrics.” 

Frank furrowed his brows. “I write lyrics…” he uttered. 

“I was thinking I would write the lyrics,” Gerard said, “but, Taylor, I guess your feedback might be useful.” 

“I’m so excited,” Mikey exclaimed, smiling wider than Gerard had seen all year. “I think we actually have a chance of winning this thing!”

“We should start rehearsing as soon as possible,” Ray said. “Gerard, do you think you could start working on some lyrics for tomorrow?” 

He shrugged. “Yeah, sure,” he said. 

“Great. Taylor, you can bring some back-ups just in case we need them. We can rehearse at my place. I’m sure my parents won’t mind.” 

“Guys, I have Amnesty tomorrow--” Frank started

“Great, so it’s settled. We’ll start rehearsing tomorrow.” Gerard grinned. “We are going to  _ win _ this thing, guys!” 

The prize for winning the battle, Gerard noticed, was playing a song at homecoming. There was no way Miley could ignore him if she saw him singing at homecoming. Gerard smiled to himself. Maybe this would be the way he would finally get what he wanted. 


	4. The Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang starts a band!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all don't like this and don't start leaving comments and kudos we're going to move on to the psychological horror coming of age romcom novel we have planned. You've been warned.

Taylor gripped her guitar case tightly, trying to keep her breathing steady. She was ready for this--she was good at guitar and she was even better at songwriting. She was more than good enough to be in a band with her new friends. So why did she feel so nervy and nauseous? 

She shouldn’t have been nervous. She was standing outside of Ray’s garage, listening to the gorgeous sounds of uneven drumming and really, really feedback-heavy amps. It sounded, frankly, like shit, but Taylor knew she was out of her depth nonetheless. She wrote country pop--just her and her guitar and her deepest, most secret feelings. The mess of noise she could hear coming out of the garage could only be described as rock: heavy, hard, and fast rock. She wasn’t surprised, but she still wasn’t exactly prepared. Nevertheless, she took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, hoping Ray could hear it over all the cymbal crashes. 

She waited at the door for only a minute or two, awkwardly looking around the Toro family’s yard. It was a nice yard. The grass was bright green and had obviously been recently mowed. There wasn’t much in the way of landscaping, but there were a few hostas planted by the sides of the house. Taylor liked hostas. There were hostas at her old house. They reminded her of running through sprinklers in the summertime and jumping on her trampoline. 

“Hey, Taylor,” Ray said upon opening the door. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, me too,” she said, plastering on her best fake smile, trying to hide the jittery uneasiness swelling up beneath her skin. “I hope I didn’t miss too much.” 

“Nope, not at all,” Ray said. “To be honest, we really haven’t gotten anything done. We need your help.” 

“Did Gerard not get his lyrics done?” 

“No, he did, but they’re...well, they’re really weird, and I’m not exactly sure they'd fly with the school. I was hoping you’d written something a little more family friendly.” 

She nodded. “Yeah, I have something in mind.” She had written a song just a few days ago about how lonely she was here, how she just felt like she didn’t fit in. She figured it would work, and it wasn’t the type of personal where she felt like she had to hide the words under her bed or in one of her dresser drawers.

“Great,” Ray said, leading her to the garage. “Hey, everybody!” he shouted upon opening the door. “Quiet down! Taylor’s here!” 

“Hey, Taylor!” Mikey said. No one else even looked up from what they were doing. That sure made her feel good. 

“Taylor’s got some lyrics for us,” Ray said. “Maybe we can work out some music to play it to.”

“I already have some music written, actually,” Taylor explained. “Maybe we could just expand it to work for more instruments. We’ll have to do a little compromising, though--I don’t do rock music.” 

“Do you even need guitarists, then?” Frank asked. “Can I enter with Pencey instead?” 

“ _ No _ ,” Gerard said, glaring at him. “You guys, we’re a  _ team.  _ We’re all in this band together.” 

“You can still play guitar, Frank,” Taylor said. “I wrote the song on guitar. You just might need to play acoustic.” 

“I’ll play drums,” Ray said. “I can also play drums.” 

“Okay, great. Then Mikey can stay on bass, Gerard will sing, and I’ll play piano. It works out perfectly. This song is going to be so amazing, guys!” 

Getting everyone to cooperate was a little harder than Taylor expected. Frank seemed a little bitter about not getting to play rock, but he tried his best to master the guitar part Taylor was teaching him. Gerard’s range was, to be bluntly honest, not nearly as wide as Taylor’s, so they had to make quite a few changes to the vocal melody in order to accommodate him. Mikey was still learning how to play bass, but Taylor really applauded him for all the effort he was putting in, even though he had quite a few finger fumbles.  _ We can make this work,  _ she said to her mind. She knew it would take a  _ lot  _ of effort, though. They were probably going to have to rehearse more than just once a week if they wanted to have even a remote chance at winning this thing.

They rehearsed for a couple of hours, and by the time they were finished, they at least had a song. That was probably better than a lot of their competition at the moment. Sure, the song didn’t sound very  _ good,  _ but they had time to work on it. Once Mikey learned the bassline and Taylor finished the piano part and they all learned to play at the same tempo they would be golden. Taylor was honestly pretty proud of the work she had done. It was nice to hear everyone complimenting her work, and it especially felt good to hear her words coming from Gerard’s mouth. As uncomfortable as the idea made her, she realized that it might be a good idea to put herself out there more. It actually felt pretty good.

She was so giddy from it all that she could hardly sleep that night. Every time she closed her eyes, Gerard’s face was behind them: his smile, his warm hazel eyes. She could hear his voice lulling her off to sleep with its gentle cadence. He was perfect in every way, wasn’t he? It was all because of him that she would finally get a chance to share her music with the world, and she was eternally grateful. Before, she’d always been too shy and timid to show her songs to even her closest friends. 

The next morning, Taylor woke up tired and groggy but still looking forward to the school day, even if it meant she had to face Miley again. At the very least, she’d get to see Gerard a few more times. That thought was what kept her going through the school day, no matter how lonely or irritated with Mikey she got. 

At this point, Taylor had pretty much given up on finding a different group of friends. After Miley humiliated her in front of the entire senior class not once but twice, she had realized that her reputation was probably far too tarnished for her to have any chance of sliding into the cool girls’ group. Besides, Mikey, Ray, and Frank were starting to grow on her, and she grew more infatuated with Gerard with each passing day. She’d do anything to be able to get closer to him. 

When Taylor’s English teacher announced at the beginning of class that they would be doing partner work, her heart froze. Because of her obvious lack of friends, any partner or group work usually meant she was left paired up with the kids who nobody else wanted to work with, often because they were either lazy or socially awkward. 

“Sorry, guys,” the teacher said, “but I’ve already picked your partners for you.” 

Taylor let out a sigh of relief. 

She ended up being partnered up with a girl named Hayley. Taylor had never heard of this Hayley before, so she looked around the classroom confused until the teacher noticed and pointed her in the girl’s direction. Hayley didn’t look like the type of person Taylor would be friends with. She had a slightly punk-ish style and her hair was dyed bright orange (though Taylor definitely couldn’t say it didn’t look good on her). Taylor waved awkwardly. Hayley smiled and waved back. 

“Hi. I’m Taylor.” Taylor placed her pencil and notebook down gently in front of her when she sat down. She was almost nervous. Hayley was the first girl she had spoken to (outside of being insulted) since she moved here. 

“I’m Hayley,” Hayley replied. “Have you done the reading? Because if I’m going to be honest, I’ve just been too busy.” 

Taylor laughed. “I’ve only done half of it. I’m new here.” 

“Oh, you’re new? Where are you from?” Hayley asked like she was genuinely interested, and it was oddly comforting to Taylor that she seemed like she actually cared. 

“Tennessee,” Taylor replied, “but Pennsylvania originally. I don’t really remember it there, though.” 

“Oh, that’s cool. Do your parents have jobs that you need to move around a lot for?” 

Taylor swallowed nervously. She wasn’t ready to tell a total stranger the truth about her move. “No, just those two times. I’ll probably stay around here until after I graduate college.” 

“Well, then maybe we can be English partners all year,” Hayley joked. “So, do you just want to pretend to have a discussion and then read SparkNotes in the last five minutes of class or something?” 

“Yeah, sounds good,” Taylor agreed, a smile forcing its way across her face. 

Hayley was really cool. She was funny and told crazy stories and told Taylor she’d edit her essays for free even though she was a good enough writer that she could usually get away with charging all the rich kids who couldn’t be bothered to proofread themselves. Apparently, Miley was a really lousy writer. That made Taylor feel at least a little bit better about herself. 

“So, you’ve been having bad luck with Miley?” Hayley asked.

“Yeah,” Taylor admitted. She didn’t have very much pride left lately, so she might as well tell this total stranger about her humiliating social issues. 

“I did too back in freshman and sophomore year. Man, she did  _ not  _ like me. Now I’m pretty sure she’s convinced that I’d beat her up if she took it too far, which is funny, because I’m not actually very strong, but I guess she thinks I look scary.”

Taylor could kind of agree with that. Hayley looked like she was the kind of person who was going to get a septum piercing and several tattoos in college. Taylor found that intimidating. However, Hayley was also really short, so that definitely took away some of the fear factor, especially for Taylor, who practically towered over her. 

“That’s funny,” Taylor said. “I wish I could say the same.” 

Hayley shrugged. “She’ll move on from you eventually. It honestly probably won’t take that long. She’s always looking for fresh meat.”

Taylor really hoped that was true. She was honestly fine with disappearing from the social sphere so long as it meant Miley didn’t bug her anymore. Maybe she’d have a chance to be normal in college, as long as she went somewhere where no one would know her name. It was disappointing, frankly. As a kid, Taylor had had high hopes for high school. She’d daydream about going to the mall and buying expensive clothes with all her friends and getting a boyfriend on the football team and going to prom in a dress everyone would be jealous of. She regretted watching all those high school comedies now, looking back on just how thoroughly she had disappointed her younger self. 

At the end of class, Hayley turned to Taylor and said, “It was nice to meet you. I hope we can talk again soon.” Taylor felt like she was going to pass out. 

Someone  _ actually  _ wanted to talk to her? This was a miracle, this was everything she’d been hoping for. Hayley was not at all what she’d expected, but she was nice and she made Taylor feel comfortable and at the very least she was a  _ girl.  _ Taylor didn’t think she could handle only being around boys all the time. 

Taylor nodded. “Yeah. Me too.” 

Hayley ripped a page out of her notebook and slid it across the table. “Here’s my number,” she said. “You can text me sometime if you’d like. We can hang out, too. I’d love to show you around the area.” 

“Thank you, really,” Taylor said. “I really appreciate it.” 

Hayley grinned. “Anytime,” she said, gathering up her stuff. “Goodbye!” Then she got up and walked out the classroom door. 

“Goodbye,” Taylor echoed back, but Hayley was already out of earshot. 

Taylor smiled to herself as she walked out into the hall. Maybe her new start wouldn’t be as bad as she had originally thought. Maybe she would still get a chance to make the most out of her senior year. 


	5. It's Nice to Have a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gang goes to the mall and decides to go to hoco, featuring ray's car and some cute moments

Ray’s car really confused Taylor. It smelled like coconuts and Hawaiian-breeze scented air freshener (whatever that was supposed to be) but also like gross, sweaty teenage boy. She was guessing the origin of the smell was coming from the passenger seat, where Gerard was currently subjecting everyone in the car to his “aux” playlist (two fire emojis in the title), but she tried to ignore that. She breathed in and out, in and out, focusing on the coconut. 

“Can I  _ please  _ aux on the drive back?” Frank whined. His voice was directly in Taylor’s ear and it was grating. She flinched a bit, which Mikey, sitting right next to her, seemed to notice. He smiled and let out a faint, barely-there laugh.

“No!” Gerard shouted. “You’re going to play Post Malone. None of us want to hear that, Frank.” 

Frank huffed, disappointed, and leaned back in his seat. “Whatever, dude. You’re just closed-minded.” 

“You just have shit taste in music,” Gerard replied. His tone had this sort of palpable smugness to it that Taylor could pick up without even having to see his face. 

“Our taste in music is practically identical, so that means you have shit taste, too. And Mikey. And Ray.” 

“That’s a straight-up lie!” Gerard exclaimed. “My taste is far more refined than yours. You just like yelling and mumbling.” 

Taylor was surprised when Frank didn’t reply to that, but a few seconds later she did hear him mumble something unintelligible under his breath. This seemed like the sort of argument they’d had before, so she assumed neither of them was as dedicated to it as they had been the first time around. 

“Hey, Gerard, what’s this song?” Taylor asked. Really, she could barely hear it over the humming of the car (she was thinking it probably needed some maintenance), but she was desperate for any way to start a conversation with him. 

“Oh, it’s just something by The Smiths. I don’t know if you know them.”

Taylor almost wanted to roll her eyes like she was in a cliche teen movie. _ Of course  _ she knew who The Smiths were.  _ Everybody  _ knew who The Smiths were. Instead, she just brushed it off. She didn’t want to irritate him in any way, make her chances with him any worse than they already were. “That’s cool,” she replied, simple and sweet. “Maybe I’ll check them out.” 

“You definitely should,” Gerard replied. “They’re one of my favorite bands of all time.” 

Taylor could tell Gerard was the type of person whose favorite band was The Smiths before he ever even mentioned them. She was pretty knowledgeable about music, actually, but people tended to assume her taste was composed solely of Ariana Grande and Shania Twain. She didn’t even really like Ariana Grande all that much, but seeing as she was a teenage girl, it was assumed. Gerard would honestly probably be the type of person to assume it too, but she could probably at the very least show him that she wasn’t as stereotypical as her blonde hair, blue eyes, and nice car made her out to be. He would probably like her more if he knew that she sometimes listened to pop punk in addition to country classics. 

By the time they pulled into the mall’s parking lot, Taylor was getting really tired of Gerard’s music. The drive had been far longer than she’d expected, which really didn’t make her feel great about the town she had just moved into. The nearest symbol of civilization was forty minutes away? She supposed she would have to budget more money for gas and maybe get a job. 

“Can we go to GameStop?” Mikey asked as soon as his feet hit the cracked asphalt of the parking lot. He had been impatient on the way there, practically vibrating in his seat. 

Ray shrugged. “Maybe later,” he said. “I don’t think Taylor would be super interested in that, and we’re here for her.” 

Taylor was thankful for that. She really wasn’t interested in being dragged around a video game store by an overly hyped-up, probably caffeinated Mikey. “Where do you guys usually shop?” she asked.

Ray laughed to himself and scratched the back of his head like he was nervous. “Uh...Target, mostly.” 

“Wherever’s cheapest,” Frank answered. “Mostly Goodwill. Me and some of my friends do a lot of DIY together.” 

Gerard laughed, his arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, and it looks like dogshit.” 

“Whatever,” Frank mumbled. He was shuffling his foot back and forth over the ground, kicking some pebbles and staring down at them dejectedly. 

“We should probably get some clothes for homecoming,” Ray suggested. 

“We’re going to homecoming?” Mikey asked. “We’ve never gone to homecoming before.” 

“It’s our senior year, y’know? I think we should experience it at least this once. Plus, maybe Taylor wants to go, and we can’t just let her go alone.” 

Taylor was a little bit offended by the implication that she couldn’t get a date, but, then again, she didn’t want a date if it wasn’t going to be Gerard. Going in a group was probably the only chance she’d have at going with Gerard in any sense, so, yeah, she’d take what she could get. “Yeah, I wanna go to homecoming.” 

“See?” Ray said, turning to Mikey. “The only problem is that I don’t really know what you’re supposed to wear to homecoming, or where you’re supposed to buy the kind of stuff that you’re supposed to wear to homecoming. Or if it’s really expensive, because, honestly, I don’t want to spend very much money on this.” 

Taylor held back her laughter. At her old school, everyone went absolutely insane over every school dance. It wasn’t uncommon to see some of the wealthier kids drop a couple thousand on prom. Even the socially outcast kids usually poured their hard-earned cash into nice clothes and nice dinner reservations. Taylor remembered all the time she spent bargaining with her parents about the budget for her first fall formal dress. “We’ll see what we can do,” she replied. 

“The theme is Disney, by the way,” Ray added. 

“ _ Disney? _ ” Gerard groaned. He slumped backwards a bit in what seemed like genuine exasperation. “That is so cringe, no. I don’t want to participate in that.” 

“Come on, guys, it’s cute!” She grabbed onto Gerard’s upper arm gently, pulling him in the same direction she had started walking. “Let’s go to Macy’s and find something for you all to wear.” 

“I already have an outfit,” Frank said. Taylor was a little shocked by that. 

“What?” Gerard shouted, turning back to him with squinted eyes. “Since when do you go to homecoming? A girl  _ actually  _ asked you out?” 

“I already told you guys about this! I’m going with Moa and Su. We’re going to be villains. Well, they are. I’m going to just be dressed in dark colors. Generic scary, you know? I was too lazy to figure out a villain to copy.” 

“That is so cheesy, dude,” Ray said, shaking his head. “I kind of love it, though.” 

Frank smiled. Taylor thought that that was probably the first time she’d seen him smile that day. “Thanks.” 

“Who are Moa and Su?” she asked. 

“Frank’s other friends. They’re in this weird metal band. They’re juniors, so that’s probably why you don’t know them,” Ray explained. 

“They’re cool. I hope you get to meet them soon. And see their band, it’s fucking awesome. Even if you don’t like metal.”

Taylor wasn’t so sure about that, but she figured she’d be dragged along to a show at some point anyway. It could maybe even be fun as long as she brought earplugs. She’d never actually been to a concert before, not even a pop star’s arena show as a birthday gift from her parents. The closest she’d gotten was being forced to sit in the audience and listen to the younger kids at her own choir concerts, which certainly wasn’t the height of music appreciation. In those moments, she had wished that mankind had never discovered that certain pitches sound good when sung at the same time, seeing as the pitches at middle school choir concerts usually did  _ not  _ sound good together. 

The lights in the Macy’s were painfully bright and the music was irritatingly loud. Taylor felt like she had to yell whenever she wanted to say something. It also smelled vaguely like a funeral home, except for by the perfumes, where even a whiff of the air made her head spin. This Macy’s fucking sucked. It didn’t even seem to have a very good selection--everything looked well picked-over. 

“This shit is so expensive,” Ray grumbled, looking over a selection of $50 dress shirts. “Can we go to Target after this?” 

Taylor laughed to herself. “Yeah, sure. You’re the driver.” 

“I got my outfit at the thrift store,” Frank said, and he looked proud of himself. “It was like twenty bucks.” 

“If you got black dress clothes at the thrift store, Frank, some old person probably wore them to a funeral. And, you know, I’ll pass on that,” Gerard said. He had gathered a couple options for both shirts and pants in his arms. Money seemed to be no object to him. Mikey was much more hesitant, though, so Taylor wondered if Gerard had a job. If they ever dated, it would definitely be nice if he did. 

There was that wishful thinking again. 

Frank shrugged. He was sitting on one of the shirt displays swinging his legs back and forth like a little kid. “It adds character.” 

Mikey poked him on the shoulder. “You’re weird,” he said with a smile. 

“Do we have to wear ties?” Gerard asked. “Because, I’m not gonna lie to you, I hate ties. I’m not sure I even know how to tie one.” 

“You’ll figure it out,” Mikey said. “It can’t be that hard if I know how to do it.” 

“Aw, don’t sell yourself short, Mikes,” Frank replied. “You are much more coordinated than your brother. It’s something to be proud of.” 

“I hate you both,” Gerard scoffed, right on the line between serious and playful. At times, Taylor wasn’t quite sure what to make out of Gerard’s temperament or the way he talked to all the others. This group felt like one that had been friends since they were little kids but were starting to realize that the only thing still holding them together was memories. She supposed that was what happened when kids grew up. It made her a bit sad, but it was only a passing sort of feeling similar to when a sad piano ballad came on the radio, just quietly humming in the background of a long car ride. 

They went to the women’s section a bit after that for Taylor to look at dresses. It reminded her of her first time going shopping for a school dance. She had been with her father, who was absolutely clueless when it came to women’s formal fashion, and he had walked around picking up random dresses and saying things along the lines of, “This is a nice color, right?” and “Why are there so many sparkles? Isn’t that itchy?” It had made Taylor laugh at the time, but now the memory just made her sad. She missed him. 

“We gotta get you something overdramatic,” Mikey suggested, “you know, since the theme is all Disney princesses and shit.” 

“Most of these are overdramatic,” Ray said. “There are so many sequins it’s almost tacky.” 

Taylor laughed. “Macy’s is bound to be a little tacky. It’s a department store, we didn’t come here for the finest, highest quality luxury dresses.” 

“This shit is expensive though,” Frank said, looking over the price tags on a rack of halter dresses. “Like, two hundred dollars for a dress? We shouldn’t have been complaining about the shirt prices, that’s for sure.” 

“Prom is worse,” she said, “plus, I probably won’t get something that nice just for homecoming. How many dances do you guys usually have every year?”

“Oh, man. I have no idea,” Ray said. “Three, maybe? I think it’s three.” 

She shouldn’t have been surprised these guys were so uninvolved in their school. To be fair, most of the cool guys even only cared about dances to the extent that their girlfriends pestered them about going. It was just how things were. She had never really expected her new school to be any different. Guys showed their school spirit at football games, girls showed it at dances. And, even then, it was only a certain subset of people that tended to show school spirit at all. Most everyone else skipped out on paying $10 to see the football team lose and they dozed off at pep rallies until teachers caught them and took them out into the hall and started yelling. Taylor had always fallen in the perfect middle ground between these two options. She cared, but only to the extent where she bothered to stay awake at rallies and round up a group of friends to go to one football game a year and the three dances their school held off campus. 

“Man, how do people afford all of that?” Mikey asked. “Especially with prom. It kind of scares me to have to think about all of that.” 

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Taylor said. 

“I know,” Mikey replied. “Gerard didn’t go last year. He probably won’t this year either, ‘cause he thinks he’s too cool for it.” 

“I do not!” Gerard hissed. “I just didn’t want to go without a date, and there was no one I wanted to ask last year, that’s all.” 

Mikey chuckled to himself. “Yeah, right,” he said, looking Taylor directly in the eyes. She held back a snicker. 

“You’re fucking obnoxious,” Gerard said. 

“And  _ you  _ can’t get a girl to date you,” Mikey retorted, a self-satisfied smirk painted across his face. Taylor imagined that Mikey couldn’t get a girl to date him either, what with his atrocious hair, but Gerard didn’t reply; he just shuffled his feet across the ground and stared off into the distance, probably at the shoe department. Taylor figured that if anyone here was dating, it would probably be Gerard. He was the best looking by far, and the only one who didn’t have an obvious flaw in his personality that would make him undateable. Mikey was far too saccharine and innocent, Ray wasn’t strong-willed enough to attract any girls, and Frank was way too disconnected from reality to even consider a relationship. Gerard was just...a guy. A pretty cute guy who probably should’ve had a girlfriend already. Taylor wasn’t going to complain, though. 

The dress Taylor settled on was of a middling price (charged on her mother’s credit card, of course). It was a pink color and it fell just above her knees and, thankfully, there were no tacky sequins. Everyone but her and Gerard left the store empty-handed, citing the price as their justification. Taylor wasn’t exactly thrilled that she was going to have to spend some time aimlessly walking around Target once they left the mall, but she supposed she’d rather waste an hour of her time than end up alone at homecoming. 

“Can we go to GameStop?” Mikey asked immediately after they walked out of the store. 

Ray sighed. “Fine.” 

Mikey grinned like a madman and picked up his pace. He seemed to know the path to the GameStop very well and took no time browsing the options of other stores. Taylor, however, was trying her best to absorb everything as she speedwalked, just in case she needed a new coat or some new shoes and had to come back here. And then she saw it: Boot Barn. 

“Guys, there’s a Boot Barn here?” She was thrilled. 

Ray stopped in his tracks. “There’s a what?” 

“A Boot Barn,” Taylor said, stepping closer towards it in a mindless state of awe. “It’s, like, my favorite store.” 

“Oh, cool,” Ray said. “Do you want to go in?” he added after a second of awkward silence. 

Taylor nodded. “Yeah, of course.” The Boot Barn, with all its yellow-lit glory and the faint echoes of country music coming from the inside, was mesmerizing Taylor, drawing her in. She couldn’t resist it. 

“Maybe I’ll wear cowboy boots to homecoming,” Taylor joked, and in that moment, she realized that maybe, just maybe, her new hometown wasn’t that bad. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed besties! can't wait to show you guys more of the story :)


	6. The Best Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor has a less-than-perfect day, but Gerard helps make it better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guysss its the other author happy valentine's day!!! i have decided to post this chapter today so i keep writing bc i have been slacking lately please enjoy

The next Monday fucking sucked. 

It had been raining that morning and unfortunately Taylor’s had gotten stuck parking at the back of the lot, so she ended up completely waterlogged by the time she walked through the school’s front door. Her boots were sopping. It was disgusting to walk in. Even worse, her hair, which she had spent a little over half an hour on that morning before she checked the weather report, had gone completely flat. 

Once she opened her backpack in science, she found that her lab report had gotten completely soaked too. Great. She hoped her teacher didn’t take off points because the writing was smeared and now totally illegible. Ray offered a few kind words of sympathy, but they did nothing to stop Taylor’s entire body from vibrating with anger. She was already on the verge of snapping only five minutes into the school day. If one more bad thing happened she swore she’d start to scream and she wouldn’t even care who heard it. 

Between third and fourth hour, her boots were still making horrid squelching sounds as she walked through the halls. And it was one of the empty halls, too, so the sounds of chatter and lockers slamming shut weren’t even enough to mask it. She rounded a corner and ended up flat on her face, spilling her notebooks and pens all across the floors. She knew exactly what happened before she even looked up from the nasty green carpet her nose was currently buried in. It was Miley, she knew it. 

Taylor had been boiling all day, but the second her orbs met Miley’s, she deflated. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes and her throat getting tight. “What the fuck, Miley?” she shouted, pushing herself up from the ground. She felt disgusted, but, even worse, she felt humiliated. 

“Oops,” Miley teased, a smirk painted across her face. She was leaning against the wall. “Didn’t see you there. Maybe you should pay more attention to where you’re going.” She giggled, but it sounded evil. “What are you distracted by anyways? Your daydreams about that loser Gerard?” 

“Wh-what?” Taylor stuttered out. She tried her best to mask it, but she was too much of a mess to really think through the words coming out of her mouth, let alone how she was saying them. “I don’t have a crush on Gerard.”

“Well, Taylor, I never said anything about you having a crush on him. Thanks for the tip.” 

Taylor clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms. It was getting harder to hold back tears with each passing second. “Why do you care so much about me anyways?” she choked out.

Miley laughed, this time fuller and more bitter. “Because it’s fun to get under your skin. Does there need to be another reason?” 

Taylor couldn’t entirely fathom that. She didn’t understand why that was so satisfying to some people, why it was so satisfying to Miley to just make people upset. Taylor didn’t particularly like to see people crying. She liked to feel better than them, sure, but she didn’t like to make them hurt. What Miley was doing wasn’t putting someone else down to boost herself up, it was just pure sadism. Taylor sniffled a little, and, yeah, maybe that was a mistake. She could tell from Miley’s self-satisfied smirk that she’d just taken that as a sign of weakness. 

“Hey!” a voice suddenly bellowed down the hall. The sound almost echoed and a few students stopped in their tracks. Taylor kept her orbs trained straight ahead of her, but she could see Miley tense up in what could’ve been interpreted as intimidation. 

“What do you want?” Miley said, almost timidly. She was certainly performing arrogance, but her words almost seemed to shiver, as inconspicuous as this wavering confidence was. 

“You to stop fucking harassing people, that’s what I want.” Taylor recognized the voice, but she couldn’t exactly place what it was. 

Miley crossed her arms. “Or what?” 

“If you don’t leave Taylor alone I’ll stop writing your essays for you,” the voice said, and then it all clicked: it was Hayley. Taylor turned around slowly and a wave of relief washed over her. She could almost smile. 

“I’ll find someone else to write my essays,” Miley spat back. 

“No, you won’t. Who the fuck else would do that? And even if you did find someone, I’d find out, and I’d go right to the honor board. So, you gonna stop, or are you gonna fail?” 

Miley scoffed. “Fine.” She dropped her arms to her sides and clenched her fists tightly, but then turned around and walked off. She gave up surprisingly easily. 

“Taylor, are you alright?” Hayley asked, reaching an arm out to help her off the floor. “I’m really sorry about all that stuff she said.” 

“Fine,” Taylor mumbled. “It’s no big deal.” 

“I really think it is. She shouldn’t be able to get away with this.” They paused for a second, sitting in an awkward, heavy silence. “Do you want me to walk with you to your next class?” 

Taylor shook her head. “I just want to be alone,” she uttered, looking away in embarrassment. “Thank you, though.” 

Hayley let go of Taylor’s hand. “Okay. I hope you feel better later. You can text me if you need anything.” 

“Thanks.” Taylor nodded solemnly for a second, then turned and walked in the opposite direction of Hayley. The bell was about to ring, but she couldn’t be bothered to go to class right now anyways, not with her orbs burning and her makeup messily streaking down her face. She wanted to go somewhere dark and quiet, somewhere she could sit alone and cry. Naturally, her first choice was the auditorium she had found refuge in on her first day. She only hoped that no one was using it. 

She couldn’t hear anyone singing or talking when she first entered the auditorium, so at the very least, she could relax a bit because of that. She shut the door gingerly behind her, careful not to make any noise, and slid down the wall, burying her head in her hands once she hit the floor. It didn’t take much longer for the tears to start flowing from then. 

Taylor wasn’t keeping track of how much time passed. She could feel herself starting to get a headache, but between the way the darkness soothed it and the fact that her need to let out all the tears she had in her felt so all-encompassing, she didn’t really mind. She was certain it hadn’t been very long--she’d never really been a crier before. Usually she could only last about five minutes before rushing for the Kleenex box and trying to distract herself. Never before had she cried at school, either. She was usually able to hold it together until she got home and locked herself away in her room, shoving a towel under the door so her parents couldn’t hear. 

Suddenly, she heard footsteps. Taylor stopped her sobbing right in that moment and whipped her head around. It was too dark for her to see much of anything, but she heard a door slowly creaking and then the thud of it being closed. The feeling of not being alone unsettled her; she felt almost naked, breaking down in the back of the auditorium while some unknown entity made its way closer and closer, encroaching on her private pain. Of course, on some level she knew that there was no malintent behind someone simply coming to the auditorium, but in that moment her thoughts were all clouded and she felt a bit betrayed by the universe for allowing this to be the moment somebody decided to practice for their band concert (which wasn’t even for another month!). 

The footsteps rang damp and heavy throughout the space, and Taylor knew from the fullness of the sound that whoever was there was now on stage. She buried herself even further behind a row of seats, trying to stay out of sight. Then came a voice, flooding the hall with song. She knew that voice, knew it from its rough edges, fine sandpaper on the high notes (though not in a particularly unpleasant way) but rich red wine on the low ones. Not only was there a  _ person  _ in the auditorium, but it was  _ Gerard.  _ Talk about humiliation. She was stuck now, without a chance of escaping--surely he would recognize her if she tried. 

She couldn’t exactly make out what it was that he was singing (maybe it was in a foreign language, maybe he just had incredibly shitty enunciation), but it was soothing in an odd way, despite how paranoid his presence made her. She had only known him for two weeks, but still, he was a familiar force, someone she knew wouldn’t poke fun at her or trip her in the halls. Someone who made her smile and laugh rather than sob in the back row of an auditorium. She wasn’t particularly fond of her new life, but there were bright spots, of which Gerard was one of the brightest. 

As time passed, Taylor realized she had stopped crying entirely. There was even the ghost of a smile resting on her lips. She could sit here all day, just listening to Gerard switch between song after song. She didn’t even mind when notes fell flat or when his voice cracked in his high range. He hadn’t noticed her, and a part of Taylor wondered if he’d still be singing if he knew someone was listening. He’d certainly taken a lot less risks during their band rehearsal than here alone. It made her feel almost guilty. Maybe for him, someone listening to his singing was the same as someone listening to Taylor sobbing. But, she figured that such beautiful art ought to be appreciated. It served no purpose if he was singing to no one. As such, her conscience remained clear. 

In the middle of one particularly challenging song--she assumed this one was operatic in nature--Taylor felt her nose starting to itch. She didn’t think much of it at first, but after a second it felt like someone had sprinkled pepper in her nasal cavities: that was definitely a sneeze coming on. She was starting to panic, and the beginnings of hyperventilation certainly weren’t making the urge to sneeze go away. She gripped the back of the chair in front of her, buried her head in her knees, gave it her all to try and hold the sneeze back and then--

“ _ Achoo!”  _

Realistically, she knew it couldn’t have been that loud. Taylor sneezed like a kitten. She’d been made fun of because of it all her life. But in that moment, it felt like the sound had bellowed out over football fields. Panic surged through her veins. Gerard’s singing stopped. The room was silent enough she could hear the pipes dripping overhead ( _ Maybe the school needs to get that checked out,  _ she said to her mind). 

“Hello?” Gerard called out. She could hear the wood of the stage floor creaking--he was walking closer to her. Taylor tried her best to not make any more noise. She even held her breath just in case. Gerard, however, did not seem satisfied. “Hello?” he called out again. The stage floor stopped creaking. Instead, there was a loud (though dull) thud indicating that he had just jumped off the stage. Taylor’s heart started beating faster, and the sound was loud enough in her ears that she was worried it would give away her hiding spot to Gerard. 

And then it happened: she started crying again. The fear of being caught by Gerard had overwhelmed her to the point where she couldn’t hold it back any longer. She was reminded all at once of how horrible a day she was having--being harassed by Miley, inadvertently missing an entire hour of class, the fact that her boots were still grossly wet. Now she was going to be humiliated in front of her crush. Maybe he would even hate her for eavesdropping. Her brain was conjuring up all the worst possible scenarios and it only made her cry even harder. 

She felt a light touch on her shoulder, then. “Taylor?” Gerard’s voice came, too close to her ear for her comfort. A shiver worked its way down her back. “What’s wrong?” he asked, pressing his whole hand down on her back. 

She let out another sharp, short sob. “Today is  _ awful _ ,” she whined. 

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said. She wasn’t looking, but she could hear him sliding down onto the floor next to her. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Taylor shook her head. She didn’t think she could if she tried. “Thank you,” she choked out. She had originally wanted to be alone, but a part of her was thankful for the comfort of another person. Gerard was sitting just a little too close to her, and it was muddling up her sadness with new, giddy feelings of excitement. The confusion was welcome--it was a distraction, at the very least. 

“Of course,” he replied. She almost missed it, but he was ever so slightly moving the tips of his fingers closer to the tips of hers, resting ever-so-slightly above the carpet.  _ Is he going to hold my hand?  _ Taylor said to her mind. She was almost considering making the next move when the bell rang out across the school, making both of them jump back a little bit. 

“Fuck,” Gerard uttered, his words breathy and ghastly in an oddly appealing way. “That was the lunch bell. Fifth period will start soon.”

“You can go,” Taylor said. She was a little upset that he was going to leave her, but what else could she expect? He couldn’t stay here all day.  _ She  _ couldn’t even stay here all day, as much as she wanted to, as much as she couldn’t imagine there being any other way. If this school was anything like her last, her father had already probably gotten a call about her cutting class. 

“No, Taylor, it’s alright,” Gerard said. “It’s not like anyone will notice I’m not in class.” He laughed a bit. “It’s not like I wanted to be there anyway. I’ll stay here with you, don’t worry.” 

Taylor managed a smile--it was difficult, but it was certainly real. “Thank you,” she said. “It means a lot to me.” 

“Any time. Do you want to talk about it now or do you want a distraction?” 

She shrugged and then wiped the tears away from underneath her eyes. She could feel her nose was starting to run which was pretty embarrassing, but she figured Gerard wouldn’t judge her for it. He was being so kind, there was no way he would. “I don’t know. I’m just tired of the way Miley treats me. It’s not fair.” 

Gerard nodded. “Yeah. She’s not always very nice. It’ll get better though, I promise. By the end of the year, this will all be long in the past. And then you’ll never have to see her again. Or me. Or anyone else here.” 

“Well, it’s not that I never want to see you guys again, it’s just...it’s just her. And the way she and her friends all make me feel. Like I--like I don’t belong.” 

Gerard made the leap of grabbing her hand then and Taylor’s heart did a fucking triple axle. “No, don’t say that. You do, Taylor, you do. You belong a lot more than a lot of the people who are already here. I’m so glad we met.” 

“You shouldn’t just go around saying things that aren’t true.” 

He squeezed her hand just a little. “It  _ is  _ true, Taylor. I promise you. It might not feel like it now but you’ll see. We couldn’t be doing the Battle of the Bands right now without you, could we? And our lunch table and our video game nights were so boring before you came. You just can’t see the difference you’re making in our lives already. But I promise you that it’s there.” 

She sniffled a bit, but smiled, too. He was really good at this whole comforting thing. She felt like she was walking on clouds, not like she’d just been crying for several hours. “Thank you.” She wasn’t going to argue back this time. Maybe some part of her was starting to believe him. “I think I’m ready to go back to class now.” 

“Are you sure?” Gerard asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. God, his orbs were beautiful--hazel flecked with gold, warm-toned and welcoming. 

She nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ll be okay.” 

He smiled at her, one side of his lips upturned slightly more than the other. Now  _ that  _ was adorable. That was something she knew from that very moment she’d be hooked onto someday, that she’d adore for the rest of the time she knew him. “Okay. I’ll see you after school, maybe? If you’re free.” 

“Sure,” Taylor agreed. “Text me.” 

“Great.” Gerard pushed himself up off the floor. “Bye, Taylor. I hope you feel better,” he said, before pushing his way past the heavy auditorium doors. 

Taylor took one more second to collect herself before getting up, just to slow her breathing and her heart rate. She decided she’d have to take a second in the bathroom to fix her hair and makeup before heading to class, but, surely, missing another ten minutes or so of class wouldn’t matter all that much when she’d already missed a whole hour  _ and  _ lunch. She was going to be miserably hungry by the end of the day, she knew it. Maybe she could eat a granola bar while redoing her mascara or something. 

She was so thankful for Gerard, thankful for all of her new friends, frankly. Sure, it was a shitty day. Her boots were still wet and her orbs were still puffy and red, but at least she had the memory of Gerard’s hand on hers to make everything a little bit brighter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay hope you enjoyed !


	7. I Knew You Were Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey guys so lol i honestly dont feel like writing a chapter description today because i honestly dont really remember what happens in this chapter i guess its just kinda. putting in some new features before the plot starts progressing fr because honestly this story is very very complicated and i have a lot of characters to introduce and such so here you go enjoy

“Good job, everybody!” Taylor exclaimed, zipping up her guitar case. “It sounds amazing. I’m honestly surprised at how far we’ve come.” 

“Thank you so much, Taylor,” Ray said. “We couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Taylor laughed to herself, brushing her hair behind her ear and hoisting her guitar case onto her back. “You could’ve,” she countered, “but I think the content of your lyrics might’ve gotten you disqualified.” 

“Sorry,” Gerard uttered. His face had gone slightly red. “I got a little bit carried away.” 

Taylor giggled. She felt the strong urge to playfully ruffle his hair, but held back because that would probably be really, really weird. Damn her heart. “It’s okay. You can write all the weird, creepy lyrics you want once we win.” 

“Yeah, right.  _ If  _ we win. Let’s not get our hopes up,” he said. 

“It’s better to stay positive. We’re going to win this thing. I hardly imagine that anybody else could’ve come up with something this good in such a short amount of time.” 

“Taylor’s right,” Mikey agreed. “Between her lyrics and your vocals, Gerard, we’ve really got a winning entry here.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Ray said. “We’ve still got a week or so left, and we’re going to practice a  _ lot  _ more. We’re not done with our work yet.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Mikey said. “Let us be happy.” 

Ray rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in playful, feigned irritation. “Do you guys want to go to Taco Bell?” 

Gerard made a face like he was horridly offended at even the mere suggestion. “Oh my God, no, ew. Taco Bell is disgusting.” 

“Is there a Chick-Fil-A around here?” Taylor asked. “I could really go for that.” 

Mikey nodded. “Yeah, there is. It’s not too far.” 

“No,” Frank said, looking up from where he was sitting on the concrete garage floor picking at his black nail polish. “I don’t want homophobic chicken. And I’m a vegetarian, what would I even eat--”

“I could go for Chick-Fil-A,” Gerard said, shrugging. 

“The chicken’s going to be homophobic regardless of whether or not we buy it, so I don’t think it really matters,” Mikey added. “I’m down.” 

Ray swung his car keys around his fingers a couple times. “Shall we?” 

Frank huffed and pushed himself up off the ground, losing balance and almost falling back down again as soon as he stood up. “Yeah, fine.” 

“Awesome!” Gerard gave a thumbs up and flashed a smile, meeting Taylor’s orbs with his own for a split second. She had to turn away because she could feel her face going total red and didn’t want him to see. “Let’s go!” 

When she looked back at everyone else, Mikey was smirking at her. Taylor could feel her hands starting to get shaky. He hadn’t noticed, had he? She didn’t think she had been too obvious. Mikey probably wasn’t smart enough to decipher a simple blush, anyway. It couldn’t mean much that he was looking at her. In fact, maybe he didn’t have any suspicions at all--maybe  _ he  _ liked  _ her.  _ The thought made her a little self-satisfied, though she, frankly, had no interest in him whatsoever. 

They all squeezed into Ray’s car, Gerard in the passenger seat, Mikey and Taylor in the backseat, and Frank in the way back, just like how it had been when they went to the mall. Fortunately, though, Ray put on the radio this time. Surprisingly, it was the pop hits radio, which Taylor was appreciative of. Charlie Puth made great background noise. It was also nice to have something to listen to other than Gerard’s voice, especially since he was going on and on and on about fucking Dungeons and Dragons or something else that Taylor could not care less about. Ray seemed interested, though, and sometimes Mikey jumped into the conversation. Frank didn’t seem to care about it and was instead immersed in his usual favorite activity: texting. Taylor wondered how he could possibly have so much to say when he didn’t say much of anything at all with this group. 

“Does everyone have cash?” Ray asked when they pulled into the Chick-Fil-A drive thru. He produced an old, worn leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and held it up in the air. Both Gerard and Frank echoed back a short, “Yes,” but Mikey seemed to panic. 

Gerard turned around to look at his brother. “You forgot your wallet again, didn’t you?” he asked, exasperated as if this had happened many, many times before. Taylor wasn’t exactly surprised by that. Mikey seemed like the forgetful type. 

Mikey didn’t say anything, just nodded, orbs downcast in shame. He seemed genuinely guilty--Taylor imagined it couldn’t have been that big of a deal. 

“I’ll pay,” Frank offered. “I’m only getting fries. It won’t be that expensive for me to pay for you too.” 

“No, no, you shouldn’t have to,” Mikey said. 

“Well, I’m gonna,” Frank said. “I’ll get you a meal and I’ll steal your fries. And then we’re even, because I stole your fries.” 

“Are you sure?” Mikey asked. He had pleading puppy dog eyes and was straining his neck to look back at Frank. 

Frank nodded, rooting around in his pockets. “Yes, o’course.” 

Gerard sighed. “I wouldn’t have done it, Mikey. You need to start keeping better track of your stuff.” 

“Yeah, I know, Gee,” Mikey said, dejected. He wouldn’t even look in Gerard’s eyes. 

Taylor thought it was a little odd that Gerard spoke to Mikey like a tired mother, but she figured there had to be a lot of conflict leading up to this point. She could easily picture a little Gerard and a little Mikey walking around a mall and dropping all their parents’ money on the floor, leaving a trail until Gerard realized what was happening and made the two of them retrace their steps. It was endearing to think about. Everyone in this car had all known each other for far longer than Taylor had been around, but rather than that being alienating, it was just intriguing. She wondered what they all were like before she was around. She wondered if they changed for her or if she was just overestimated how much anyone cared. It would be nice to know that someone thought she was worth changing for. Her parents never did. That’s why she ended up here in the first place. 

Taylor felt at peace when Ray dropped her back off at her house later that afternoon. They had spent almost two hours eating their lunches at a local park, sitting on the stone benches and in the freshly-mowed grass. She was starting to get really comfortable with this group of people, with the way their conversations ebbed and flowed and their playful teasing and their varied interests (Taylor was  _ never  _ going to learn how to play Magic the Gathering though). She was especially excited that they could all bond over making music together. Even if they didn’t win the Battle of the Bands, she hoped they could still play together. 

The next day, Taylor walked into school with her head held high for the very first time. She wasn’t only okay with being there, she was happy about it. She was looking forward to seeing Hayley in English and Gerard at lunch, and she was also pretty damn excited to see how she did on her physics test because she was pretty sure she crushed it. She found that here she spent more time studying, and it paid off (though she wouldn’t admit to herself that the reason for that was most likely that she didn’t have as many friends to spend time with). 

“Taylor!” she heard someone call from across the hall.

Taylor stopped walking and turned around, trying to look for whoever it was that had called her name. She still had about five more minutes before she had to be in class, so she didn’t mind taking her time to look around. 

“Taylor!” the voice called again, and then Taylor could see a bit of orange hair in the sea of students. Hayley. Taylor smiled to herself. It felt nice to have someone seeking her out. “Hey!” Hayley exclaimed once she made her way over to where Taylor was. “How are you?” 

Taylor shrugged. “I’m pretty good. You?” 

“Great!” Hayley was grinning wildly. “Man, I had an awesome weekend. I got to go to a show on Saturday, that was pretty awesome. I’ve been thinking that maybe next time I’d invite you? You know, if you’re interested. And then yesterday I got to go to the city all day, which was even better, and I think you’d definitely be interested in that, so, next time. What’d you do?”

“Just had band rehearsal,” Taylor said. She really couldn’t say her life was very exciting. She’d Skyped her dad, but she didn’t really want to bring that up to Hayley. She still hadn’t even told Gerard that her parents were divorced. She had no clue when she’d be ready to. 

“Oh, you have a band?” 

Taylor nodded. “Yeah. I mean, sort of, I guess. It’s new. We’re going to enter the Battle of the Bands.” 

“Cool. Who’s in it?” Hayley asked. 

“Well, I’m not sure you would know who they are,” Taylor said. She felt her cheeks heating up. Would Hayley judge her for the fact that the only people she managed to become friends with were losers? “Their names are Gerard, Mikey, Ray, and Frank.” 

“Oh, I know Ray and Frank! They’re awesome. Really talented musicians. That’s super cool. What kind of music do you guys play?” 

Taylor had to think about that for a second. “You know, I’m not exactly sure, honestly. It’s like...country-pop with slight rock influences.” 

“Sounds interesting,” Hayley said. “I bet you guys will win. Or at least place really highly. You know, I was not looking forward to having to watch the Battle of the Bands, but at least now I know I have someone to root for. I’ll definitely vote for you guys.” 

Taylor stopped in her tracks and turned to face Hayley. “The contest is by popular vote?” she asked. She could feel her heart sinking. 

“Yeah,” Hayley said, brows furrowed. “You didn’t know?” 

Taylor shook her head. “No. I...there’s no way we’re going to win now. It’s just going to be a popularity contest.” 

Hayley chuckled warmly, though Taylor still felt a little bit insulted by it. “Popularity isn’t as big of a thing here as you might think it is. Just because Miley’s a bitch doesn’t mean our school is structured like a food chain. And some of those guys are pretty well-liked, you’d be surprised. I think it’ll turn out okay.” 

“If you say so,” Taylor replied, shrugging. “I guess I don’t know who any of the competition are yet.” 

“Me neither,” Hayley said, “but I guess we’ll see soon enough.” She stopped walking. “Well, this is my stop,” she said, pointing back at the door to one of the calculus classrooms. “Bye, Taylor. See you later.” 

“Bye,” Taylor replied, watching Hayley open the door and then shut it behind her. She sighed. She wasn’t sure how to feel about these new revelations about the Battle of the Bands. She wondered if everyone else knew how they were going to be judged or if she was the only one who had been left out of the loop. She wasn’t sure if everyone else was as scared of losing as she was. 

Popularity had been starting to become less of a concern to Taylor, but that didn’t mean the thought of possible humiliation didn’t make her heart stop beating. She was starting to wonder why she’d even thought it was a good idea to do this--there was no way she could bring herself to perform. At least Gerard had the singing parts. Maybe she could find a way to hide in the background, just so no one would be talking about  _ her  _ if they flopped. She felt a little bad trying to pin all the negative response on everyone else, but they could probably handle it. They must’ve been used to being rejected here. Humiliated, even. They seemed like the type to get publicly bullied.

When Taylor sat down in physics, she immediately turned to Ray and said, “Did you know that the Battle of the Bands is judged by popularity?” 

Ray seemed pretty nonchalant, unbothered. “Yeah,” he said. “You didn’t?” 

Taylor laid her head on her desk. “We’re going to lose,” she whined. “We’re going to get absolutely destroyed. I’ll never be able to show my face again!” 

Ray furrowed his brows. “I mean, it’s not really  _ about  _ winning, is it? And, really, I don’t think it’ll be too bad. Even if we don’t win, we know our song is good. We won’t humiliate ourselves.” 

Taylor didn’t understand how he was so calm about this. To her, it felt like the world was about to end. “What if everybody votes against us because Miley hates me?” 

Ray laughed and Taylor shot him a glare, but he didn’t seem to notice, or at least he just didn’t mind. “Miley’s a bitch. Everyone hates her. She doesn’t decide who wins the Battle of the Bands. We have a good chance, okay? Trust me.” 

The bell rang, then, so it wasn’t like Taylor could argue back without getting in trouble. She just huffed out a heavy sigh and leaned back in her seat and let her mind run wild with worst-case scenarios. It was a bad habit of hers to always be so painfully pessimistic, but she wasn’t going to put in all the work to change that now. 

She wasn’t feeling all that much later that day at lunch (although her mom had made her chicken noodle soup, which was one of Taylor’s favorite foods, so that was starting to soften her mood a little). Nobody else in the band really seemed to care all that much that they had signed themselves up for what was essentially a glorified popularity contest. They had all just shrugged it off and went back to talking about some movie that Taylor had never heard of in her life. She really couldn’t be bothered to remember the title no matter how many times they all said it, but she had to admit it was nice to see how enthusiastic they all were about it, even Frank, who had, for once in his life, stopped texting and actually joined in the conversation. She still zoned out about five minutes into the discussion, though, until Mikey looked up and a look of alarm settled across his face. 

Taylor turned around quickly. There were five boys standing behind them, each with their arms crossed and their chins held high. They looked almost as if they were standing in formation. She was guessing their goal was to be intimidating, and it was certainly working on her. 

“What the fuck do you guys want?” Frank asked, like he had absolutely no healthy sense of fear. 

The guy standing in the front cleared his throat and took half a step forward. His brown hair bounced when he walked. “We saw you entered the Battle of the Bands,” he said. His tone was strong and steady. 

“Yes, we did,” Gerard said.

“Hmm.” The guy nodded. “Well, I hope you know that One Direction will be winning.” 

“Yeah, okay, whatever, Harry,” Frank said, almost aloof in his dramatics. “What the hell are you trying to do, intimidate us? Because I really don’t think anyone cares about your juvenile scare tactics.” 

Taylor thought that Frank should speak for himself, because  _ she  _ cared about their juvenile scare tactics. These guys were frightening. They were probably friends with Miley, too, and that just made it all worse. Would Miley ever let her have  _ any  _ peace of mind? Taylor had never felt so antagonized in her life, not even in elementary school when bullying still consisted of black-and-white evil, gossip in equal proportion to being pummelled on the playground. 

The boy, Harry, shrugged. “We’re not trying to do anything. Just let you know who you’re up against.” 

“Dude, we can read the announcements ourselves,” Ray said. “We already  _ know  _ who we’re up against. We don’t need you to spell it out for us like we’re in kindergarten.” 

“You know who I’m scared of?” Frank said. Taylor wanted to bury her head in her hands or run away. How could these guys stand to be so bold? “I’m scared of 100 gecs. They’re cool as hell. That’s the real competition, if you ask me.” 

One of the One Direction boys scoffed--not Harry, Taylor noted. This one was blond. “Those losers? You think they have a chance of winning?” 

Frank shrugged. “As good of a chance as you or I.” 

“Whatever,” Harry said. “We’ll see you guys when we’re receiving our first place prize.  _ And  _ when we’re playing at homecoming.” And then Harry turned around and the rest of One Direction followed suit and they sauntered away. 

“That was so fucking weird,” Ray said, sighing exasperatedly. And, honestly, as freaked out as she was, Taylor could agree. Things would only get worse from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright hope you all liked the chapter! promise it gets better from here


	8. Fearless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally time for the Battle of the Bands!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys ive decided to start updating this more often because i really just need to get it over with at this point so i can write my much cooler story. all in all i really hope this doesnt come across like im trying to mock fic writers because i am not its more about tropes in teen/ya genres in general and like. well i wont spoil it but youll see. also i hope it is apparent that taylor's perspective does not reflect either of ours at all lol

Taylor had never been this nervous in her  _ life _ . 

She thought she was sick at first. She almost threw up twice that morning. She was clammy and pale enough that her mother thought she had a fever at breakfast that morning. Her temperature was normal, though--it was just stress. Stress and just a little bit of regret. 

Taylor went over to Ray’s house that morning to help him load all their instruments into the back of his mom’s van. He was rather chipper for how early it was, still nursing his first mug of coffee as they hoisted the keyboard into the backseat. Taylor was stressing out a bit about how they were going to fit the drumset, but Ray swore they could make it work. 

Gerard and Mikey showed up about twenty minutes late, both looking like they had just rolled out of bed, which made Taylor a little bit angry. Just a little bit. “Guess who overslept,” Gerard scoffed, as if he didn’t look just as unkempt and exhausted as Mikey did. Although, there was a case to be made that that was just his natural state of being. 

Mikey just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Whatever, Gerard,” he said. “Is there anything I can help you guys with?” 

Ray looked around. “No, no, I don’t think so. I think we’re all ready to go. Who’s riding with me and who’s riding with Taylor?” 

“I’ll go with Ray,” Frank said. 

Mikey perked up. “Me too.”

Gerard sighed. “I guess I’ll go with Taylor, then.” He walked over towards her car. “See you guys later,” he said, pulling open the passenger seat door. 

Taylor was a little shocked at how bold he was, just getting into her car without asking, but she wasn’t going to complain. She was excited to have some time alone with him, even if it was only a couple of minutes at a time where she felt far too nauseous to talk about much of anything at all. She got into the car and immediately turned down the radio volume to next to nothing because she was kind of convinced that Gerard would judge her for listening to country radio. 

They spent the first minute or so of the ride in silence, until Gerard got tired of only listening to the sounds of his fingernails tapping on the window. Taylor was thankful he cut it out, because it was really, really annoying her to the point where she kind of wanted to start ripping her hair out. “You nervous?” he asked, chuckling. 

Taylor nodded. “Yeah. Crazy nervous.” 

“Ha. I am, too. A little bit. It’s not like I lost any sleep over it or anything.” 

Taylor forced out a laugh, because she  _ had  _ lost sleep over it, but she didn’t want Gerard to know that. “Yeah, no. It’s gonna go great.” 

“I don’t see how anyone could beat us,” he said. “One Direction is the only real competition, and they’re pretty boring. Everyone else is far too wacky.” 

“Right,” Taylor agreed, though she thought One Direction could definitely give them a run for their money. “Nothing to worry about.” 

Gerard turned to her and shot her a smile, and she had to try really, really hard then to not absolutely lose her mind and accidentally crash the car. She smiled back hesitantly and took a few deep, steady breaths. There were only about two minutes left on the car ride, but she knew those two minutes would certainly feel like an eternity. Her hands were so shaky she almost lost her grip on the steering wheel as she pulled into the school’s parking lot. 

Classes were shortened that day so the entire school could go to the assembly for the Battle of The Bands. The hours dragged on and on and on and Taylor felt each second in excruciating detail until the principal’s crackly voice finally came over the loudspeaker and announced that band members could make their way down to the gymnasium to set up their equipment. As Taylor stood up, she could feel her entire English class staring at her, and her face started to go total red until she noticed Hayley giving her two thumbs up. The encouragement helped put her at ease, and, just for a moment, her nervousness became excitement. 

Ray, Gerard, Mikey, and Frank were all already finished setting up by the time Taylor got down to the gym. They waved hello, pointed her to where Ray had put the keyboard and asked if she wanted to run through the song one more time before the Battle started. Taylor took a second to look around, taking in all the competition. The gym was pretty full and it was crazy loud. Shouting and tuning echoed across the room, all of the sound ricocheting off the walls. The echo in here was pretty bad. 

Taylor turned to her band. “I’m not sure we should,” she said. “It doesn’t seem like anyone else is. And back when I was in choir, my conductors always said that was bad luck.” 

Ray shrugged. “Alright,” he agreed. “Makes sense. We’ve rehearsed enough for five lifetimes, anyways.” 

Taylor thought it was better to take this time to get a sense for who they were going up against. Obviously, there was One Direction--she had been expecting them--who sounded good, but not quite as good as she had expected. Aside from that, she heard screaming coming from one side of the room and really grating electronic music coming from the other. Whoever those groups were probably should not have entered, because there was absolutely zero chance of them ever winning. Taylor didn’t think that the majority of the student body was that insane.

After about thirty minutes (most of which had been spent plunking around on the piano and chatting) the rest of the student body started to file into the gym and take their seats. The room was quickly filled with uproarious commotion and Taylor felt her head starting to ache. They were playing second, though, so hopefully that was soon enough that she wouldn’t be too disoriented to play well. She wondered if all the noise would throw the other bands off too. She hoped it would. 

It took the principal about three minutes after he started clearing his throat into the microphone to calm down the crowd. He was pretty obviously in a grumpy mood. Taylor probably would be too if she wasn’t so excited. He started droning on and on then about respect and how disappointed he was in the student body for just refusing to shut up. “This whole thing is going to run late because of you guys,” he said. “How do you feel now that you’re going to have to stay late?” A collective groan radiated out from the bleachers. “Yeah, that’s your own fault.” 

The first band to perform was the weird screaming band. It was pretty obvious that no one was paying attention.  _ Taylor  _ wasn’t even paying attention. She was having an entirely eyebrow-based conversation with Gerard, indicating to each other that this band was going to be absolutely no competition.  _ Why would you even enter a school Battle of the Bands with music like that? _ she said to her mind. Taylor knew better. 

“Okay, everyone,” the principal said, looking at the schedule he was holding in his hands, “a round of applause for...The Used. Up next we have...My Chemical Romance? These names are horrible, how did the administration just let...you know what, never mind. Take it away.” 

Taylor’s hands were shaking a bit as she stepped up to her keyboard. She took a couple deep breaths, looking around at her friends for any reassurance they could offer. Gerard was focused on the crowd, a smile across his face. Mikey was staring at the ground. Ray and Frank were somewhere in the middle ground between those two things. 

Before Taylor could really even begin to comprehend what was happening, they had started playing. Her fingers fell into place naturally, muscle memory taking over. She was thankful for all the practicing they had done--she was able to let go of her focus enough to be able to appreciate just how  _ good  _ they sounded. Much better than the last band, at least. 

Applause roared from the crowd as soon as their song was over. It felt like it had only been half a minute, that was how engaged Taylor had been while playing. She looked around at the rest of the band and she thought that she had never seen them all so happy in their lives. They walked off the stage together, bathing in the glory of the moment. As soon as they got back to the seating area, Gerard  _ hugged  _ her. Taylor could’ve sworn it was the best day of her entire life. She could feel her face going total red. Maybe she could blame it on how hot it was in the gym or the euphoria of performing. 

Up next was the weird electronic band, which Frank was strangely excited about. He leaned to the front of his seat and exclaimed, “Holy shit, it’s 100 gecs!” as if he didn’t already  _ know  _ they were going to be playing. And, really, Taylor couldn’t see the appeal. The vocals were horribly autotuned and they were singing something about a horse. Like, who cares? What a weird topic for a song. Taylor thought that songs were supposed to have  _ substance _ . Luckily, the performance was short. The next competitors, though, made Taylor’s stomach turn with nerves. 

As One Direction stepped up to perform, the entire gym seemed to quiet. Taylor took that as a bad sign. These guys were going to get everyone’s undivided attention--there was no way they weren’t going to win this thing. My Chemical Romance might as well have given up all their hopes and dreams right then. And, yeah, their set was good. It was really good. Taylor could feel even herself getting into, despite the fact that she really, really didn’t want to, just to spite them. 

When the song ended, Taylor noticed something strange: there really wasn’t all that much applause. Sure, clapping still echoed throughout the room, but it wasn’t quite as thundering as after My Chem’s performance. She felt herself almost getting hopeful--though she wouldn’t let that feeling get too far, lest risking disappointment. 

The principal stepped up to his podium. “Okay, everyone,” he said, sounding exhausted, “open up Schoology and cast your votes in the Google Form you’ll find in your advisor’s class, please.” 

Taylor looked over to her friends and flashed a strained, nervous style. None of them were allowed to vote--they just had to wait in silence, awkwardly looking around the room and silently praying for the best. She didn’t know how she could possibly endure these few minutes of waiting, expecting the absolute worst, expecting total humiliation. 

Ten minutes later, the principal stepped back up to the podium. “Voting has closed,” he said. “The results are in. And the winner is…” he trailed off, and the suspense continued building. “My Chemical Romance!” 

Taylor couldn’t believe it. 

“Congratulations! Please change your name before homecoming, though.” 

Taylor jumped out of her seat and immediately pulled Gerard into a tight hug. She was so overwhelmed and thrilled at winning that she couldn’t even bring herself to be nervous or embarrassed about touching him. They really  _ won.  _ She’d never been more proud in her life, never had a bigger accomplishment. They were going to play at homecoming! The back of her mind was occupied with thoughts about how this would improve her social status, though most of the thoughts running through her brain were more along the lines of  _ Holy shit we fucking did it? What? Oh my God we actually did it!  _ and incomprehensible shrieking sounds. 

The final bell rang and students started to file out of the gym. Taylor wanted nothing more than to get out of that fucking school, but they had to pack up their stuff first. She was jealous of One Direction and 100 gecs, who didn’t have much in the way of equipment and were able to leave right away. Even The Used was faster than they were, and a few of the members had found themselves huddled around MCR’s side of the gym, talking to Frank and Ray as they took the drumset apart. 

“This was fucking homophobic,” the long-haired dude said. “Like, you guys were good and all, but…” 

Frank laughed. “Yeah. Not my type of competition anyway. You guys and gecs deserved way better. That was an awfully cold crowd. I’m almost glad I didn’t enter with Pencey.” 

Taylor had no clue what they were going on about, but it kind of hurt her a little bit that she was being accused of homophobia. She wasn’t homophobic, not at all. She loved gay people, but that didn’t mean their bands were better than hers. At least, she assumed these guys were gay. Those were the vibes she was getting. 

“So, what now?” Gerard asked, snapping Taylor out of her thoughts. “You guys wanna get food? Coffee? Something to celebrate?” 

“Let’s go to Dairy Queen,” Mikey said. “I want a Blizzard.” 

“If we’re getting ice cream we have to go to Walgreens first,” Frank yelled and, Jesus, how the hell could he even hear them all the way over there?

“Fine,” Gerard agreed. “We’ll go to Walgreens first.” 

So they all ended up crowded into Ray’s car along with all their equipment, even though Taylor had offered to drive separate, because Mikey had insisted it would be more fun this way. Taylor did not think it was more fun this way. It would’ve been much more fun if she had gotten to ride alone with Gerard again, but she supposed the world hated her so she was just going to end up stuck in this crowded coconut-and-sweat scented van listening to Anthrax at a deafening volume. Why, why, why. It was like her own personal hell, though maybe a little less than hell, because Gerard was  _ right there  _ and it was pretty easy to daydream about running her hands through his hair when it was literally right in front of her. And also Mikey was funny. Sometimes.

As much as she mentally complained about all the chaos she was stewing in, she couldn’t stop smiling once she got home. It was so bad her mom even bothered to ask about it. Her mom asked if she’d been with a cute boy or something and Taylor’s face went total red and she was humiliated, mostly because, yes, that was exactly it, and she was really struggling to lie to her own mother’s face. 

“Who is he?” she asked, grinning like crazy. 

Taylor rolled her eyes. “Mom, I told you. There’s  _ no one.  _ It was just me and some friends. I’m just happy because we won.” 

Her mom quirked an eyebrow. “Girl friends or guy friends?” 

“Guy friends, but--” and her mom tried to interrupt her there, but Taylor wouldn’t let her “--it doesn’t mean anything. They’re just friends, I swear.” 

“They better be,” she said. “If you got a boyfriend I’d expect you to at least  _ tell  _ me.” 

“I will, Mom, I promise, but I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t even have a crush. All the boys at my school are ugly. I just have to hang around them because all the girls are really mean. Well, except one, but aside from Hayley, they’re just total nightmares.” 

“How come I haven’t met any of your friends, Taylor?” 

Taylor shrugged. “I don’t know. I just don’t know if I’m close enough with them yet to have them over.” 

“Well, you’ve been to their houses. What’s the big deal?” 

And, to be honest, Taylor didn’t really know what the big deal was. It just felt wrong to have them over. Embarrassing, maybe. When she thought about Gerard sitting in her room she got all nervous, but that wasn’t the case for all of them. Maybe she just didn’t want to admit to her mom that all of her friends were a bunch of weird, outcast guys. Which was weird, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like her mom would care. As long as they were nice to her and as long as none of them were secretly making out with her in the basement during so-called “movie nights” her mom probably wouldn’t care too much about the kind of people she was hanging around. Well, maybe her mom would have a problem with gay friends or really, really punk friends. She’d never had to consider this sort of thing before. Not that her friends were gay, they weren’t, but maybe they seemed a little gay sometimes, even Gerard, and--wow, she was really overthinking this. At this point, she was just making excuses for herself. 

She just shrugged and tried to come up with a good excuse for herself. “I don’t know, what if they...judge me because my parents are divorced?” That seemed like a good excuse. She was actually pretty proud of herself for coming up with that one. 

Her mom sighed, looking solemn all of the sudden. “Well, if they judge you for something like that, they’re not true friends.” She paused. “But I’m sorry you had to go through this, Taylor. I really am.” 

Taylor didn’t entirely know how to respond to that. Say it’s fine? It really wasn’t. She just settled on a quick, “Thanks,” even though that probably wasn’t a very good response at all. “I’m going to bed now, so you can’t interrogate me anymore.” 

Her mom laughed, and it was a really nice sound to hear. Those past few moments had been tense, like walking on eggshells. “Fair enough,” she said. “Goodnight, Taylor. I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Taylor said, and then bounded off to her room. Maybe her happiness was a bit tempered now, what with all the overthinking, but she was still ecstatic. They  _ won.  _ And Gerard  _ hugged her.  _ She decided, then, with her eyes closed waiting to fall asleep, that today had been the best day of her entire life. She couldn’t wait to see what the future held. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> essentially some things are changing here. i backtrack a lot on some of the characterizations lol

The next day, Taylor walked into the lunchroom with yesterday’s smile still painted brightly and proudly across her face. She just couldn’t stop being happy! It was strange, really. Taylor had never been a sad type of person per se, but her move had taken some of the joy out of everyday life. Today, though, that was far from the case. She was over the damn moon, and she was thrilled about the concept of seeing her friends. The same people she hadn’t wanted to talk to at all only a few weeks ago!

Something was wrong, though. She noticed it immediately. There was a new face at her lunch table--a distinctly despicable face. Sitting right next to Gerard, of all people. What had happened in the past twenty four hours that could’ve led to this turn of events?  
“Hello, Taylor,” Miley grumbled out as Taylor took the table’s only open seat, sandwiched in between Frank and Mikey. Why there, why did she have to sit there? Why did Miley have to choose to sit next to the guy _she_ liked? More importantly, why hadn’t Gerard told her to back off?

Taylor cleared her throat as she sat down. “Hello, Miley. To what do we owe the pleasure?” The words sounded wrong coming out of her mouth, far too formal, but the smugness of it all seemed to suit the situation.

“I just wanted to congratulate all of you on winning the Battle of the Bands, that’s all. It’s a big achievement. You know, honestly, I was shocked, but I guess I’m not disappointed. Gerard sings beautifully. It will be wonderful to hear at homecoming.” 

Gerard smiled widely, leaning in ever-so-slightly closer to Miley. He probably figured that no one else would notice, but Taylor certainly did. She clenched her fists under the table. “Thank you,” he said, strong and bold, with a sort of pride and confidence that Taylor  _ wished  _ she had. 

“Of course,” Miley draped her hand gently on Gerard’s shoulder, almost flirtatious. Taylor’s blood boiled. There was  _ no way  _ this was happening. Yesterday Miley wouldn’t have even spared Gerard a second glance. “I don’t even think you should change your band’s name. It’s edgy. I like it.” And then she  _ winked.  _ Taylor couldn’t handle this today. Or any day, ever. 

Mikey and Frank, she noticed, were exchanging glances with each other that sat somewhere on the spectrum between confusion and apprehension. This was weird. Everyone was in agreement that it was weird, except Gerard, who was too busy staring into Miley’s sparkling blue orbs to notice how on edge everyone else at the table was. God, Taylor resented that. She resented everything about the situation. She felt like she was going to die if Miley was within a six foot range of her for even a second longer. Who knew what humiliation she had planned? Surely this visit wasn’t truly done out of good will. There had to be some sort of ulterior motive, probably involving Taylor’s face and the gross carpeted floor.

Gerard laughed under his breath. “Well, thank you. We weren’t planning on it. If they bother us about it, we can just tell them we got it from the title of a book and then they’ll have to leave us alone.” 

Miley giggled, fucking  _ giggled.  _ She was obviously flirting. “Really? I didn’t know you were such a big reader...you seem like the type, though. Smart.” 

“Well, comic books, yes, I read a lot of those,” he joked. “Mikey, uh, works at Barnes and Noble, though. He found a book in the stockroom and thought it would make a good name for a band. And, well, he was certainly right.” 

Miley shrugged. “Well, it’s cool nonetheless. And reading is for losers, anyway.” 

The rest of the lunch period was...uncomfortable, to say the very least. It was cringeworthy watching Gerard and Miley’s not-so-subtle flirting. It was like the intricate mating dance of two neon-feathered tropical birds, somehow delicate and clumsy at the same time. It made Taylor’s stomach turn. This was the first time in a long time that she was thankful for the bell ringing, thankful for having to go back to class. 

The group walked through the halls together after Miley waved goodbye, making sure to bat her eyelashes a couple times first. They weren’t really talking, which was mildly uncomfortable and definitely new. Normally someone was excitedly spouting something, usually a Way. Today Gerard was staring off into the distance, likely trapped in some mushy sort of daydream, and Mikey was trying hold back  _ something,  _ whether it be laughter or questions for his brother about whatever the fuck he had just witnessed. Frank was somehow texting as he walked (bad idea) and Ray was contentedly hopping along, seeming pretty neutral on what happened, although Taylor bet his thoughts were telling a different story than his exterior. 

As they turned down a corner together, someone bumped straight into Frank’s shoulder, a kid with a weird buzz cut that honestly wasn’t all that tall. Frank hesitantly looked up from his phone, trying to figure out who had just run into him. “Faggot,” the kid uttered under his breath, and then disappeared into the sea of people. Taylor could see Frank’s face starting to go total red, and, to be fair to him, that was probably a bit embarrassing, being called a homophobic slur in the high school hallway. Nobody said anything, though, so Taylor just ignored it. She was surprised that not even Frank retorted; he seemed like the type to pick stupid little fights like that. Maybe this sort of thing was normal for them, even though Taylor had never heard it happen before. There was a little bit more homophobia at her old school. Only a little bit, though. 

When Taylor walked into her classroom, she was instantly attacked. “Taylor!” Hayley’s voice exclaimed, bright and cheery. “Congrats on winning the Battle of the Bands! I’m so proud of you!” She pulled back after a second. “It was okay that I hugged you, right?” 

Taylor nodded. She supposed it was fine. It kind of felt weird, though. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m honestly surprised.” 

Hayley laughed. “You shouldn’t be. You guys put on an amazing show. I’m excited to see how much better it will get by the time homecoming comes around.” 

“We’ll see,” Taylor said. “I honestly think your expectations are a little too high.” 

“No way! Trust me. I wouldn’t lie to you. Plus, I know a thing or two about good live shows. And good music in general. You guys have really got something special.” 

All this talk about the band was making Taylor a little bit nervous. Half the time when looking back on that performance she could hardly remember that people had actually been there, that people had seen her up on that stage, that they had perceived all her hard work, which meant that they had perceived her deepest feelings, too. It was uncomfortable, but maybe there was a bit of plausible deniability inherent in this sort of thing. No one would really ever know if all her words had come from the heart or if they were just some story made up for the sake of putting on a good show. It was a bit of relief that she still had lies to fall back on. Maybe her song was about someone else, or even just a movie she particularly liked. Vulnerability had always been the worst part of this to her. 

“Well, thank you again,” Taylor said. “You know, I’d love to see you sing sometime.” 

“Nah.” Hayley shook her head, dismissive. “I’d just embarrass myself. You don’t really wanna see that.” 

“I’m sure that’s not true. I bet you have a beautiful voice.” 

Hayley laughed. “Your expectations for me are far too high. Really, it’s just a hobby, nothing special. I think that everyone loves to sing. It’s just kind of...human.” 

Taylor had never really looked at it that way before. She’d always been embarrassed of her voice, of her passion, even. Singing was something you did if you were good at it. You did it to show off. Just like any art, it required talent, or else it was best kept secret and under wraps. Maybe that was why she had always been so private about her work--she didn’t think it deserved any attention. But the way singing made her feel, regardless of whether she was good at it or not...maybe Hayley was onto something. The idea made her smile a little bit. Nothing noticeable. Maybe it really wasn’t about being the best. It was just something that people did. “That’s an interesting way to put it,” Taylor said, because she felt like she had to say  _ something.  _ “I like it.” The bell rang, then, and they both took their seats. She thought about that exchange for the rest of the hour, though.  _ King Lear  _ was too boring and convoluted to hold her attention for very long. 

At the end of the school day she waited right outside the doors for Gerard and Mikey, who she was supposed to be driving to the movie theater tonight. They were all going to see some stupid Marvel movie that she really didn’t care about, because Taylor really hadn’t been following the franchise and she imagined that she’d have no clue what was going on. She’d never liked that type of movie much anyways, but her friends had all goaded her into expanding her horizons and promised that she could choose the movie they went to see next. Just to spite them, she was going to choose something really stupid. Not a romcom or anything, because these guys actually seemed like the type who would secretly (or not-so-secretly) like that, but just the worst, most juvenile film imaginable. The thought of it made her laugh to herself a little bit. She was so lost in thought that she jumped back in fright when she looked up and saw someone standing right in front of her. 

“Taylor Swift, is it?” the guy said. He was staring her down with his chin slightly upturned, his light brown hair falling just above his eyes. It seemed like he was holding his head high to try and assert some sort of dominance, but maybe it was just because he couldn’t see her otherwise. 

Taylor gulped and nodded nervously. “Who are you?” she asked. 

“I’m Justin,” the guy replied, crossing his arms. “I’m one of Miley’s friends.” 

That made Taylor even more nervous than she already was. Being cornered by some random guy was not exactly comforting, even though she was taller than him. “What do you want from me?” 

Justin laughed. “Nothing,” he said. “Just wanted to say congrats. You’re pretty good at keys, and your backing vocals sounded nice.” He paused for a second, looking around. “Well, I guess there is something I want, now that I think about it. I’m kind of up and coming on SoundCloud, not to brag. I was wondering if you’d want to help me with a song sometime. I think it would be a pretty cool collab.” 

Taylor had no clue what this guy’s angle was, but she sincerely doubted he was being genuine. He seemed like he was trying to be intimidating and he was standing way too close to her. “Uh, maybe,” Taylor said. “I’m not sure.” 

“Okay,” Justin said. “Well, think about it and let me know. Just search Justin Bieber on SoundCloud if you want to get a feel for my stuff. Do you have Instagram? You can DM me with any questions. My user is just my full name.” 

“Alright,” Taylor said, just wanting to get this thing over with. “Thanks,” she added, though hesitantly. 

“No problem.” Justin smiled at her. “Nice meeting you!” he said, and then walked away without another word. Taylor thought the whole thing was incredibly weird but she was too confused to actually vocalize her thoughts to him, and within a second, he was lost in the crowd. 

“Hey, why was Justin talking to you?” Gerard asked as he approached her. 

Taylor shrugged. “I’m not really sure. He said he wanted to do a song or something together, even though we’d never spoken before.” 

“That’s...really weird for him,” Gerard said, but he didn’t specify why. “Hmm.” And then he shrugged. “You ready to go?” 

“Yep.” Taylor pulled her car keys from her jacket pocket and swung them around her fingers a few times. “Let’s go.” 

“Are you guys excited?” Mikey asked, practically bouncing up and down. Had he been drinking energy drinks this morning? He was acting like he had. 

“I am,” Gerard said. “Not sure about Taylor, though.” 

She laughed under her breath. “I’ll survive,” she said, and maybe that was a bit of an under exaggeration. If she sat next to Gerard, at the very least, she’d definitely have a good time. Plus, she loved popcorn as much as anyone. 

At the end of the day, the movie was fine, but the warmth in her heart that came from having Gerard next to her was better than okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly have very little motivation to finish this story bc it gets no interaction and also it was supposed to be a group thing and now im doing it alone and also im questioning some of my decisions on the writing so if youre interested in seeing how it ends please let me know and perhaps i will keep writing

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Open to suggestions, stay tuned for weekly updates ^_^


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